The Silence that Binds Them
by Vocalsama
Summary: Death. They say before you die, you hear nothing but silence.A silence so peaceful and comforting that you never wish to escape from it.Death is not to be feared by those who have no hearts.Even they embrace the silence.
1. Rain

Rain. It was always so soothing. Especially at the dead of night, or in his case, it was always night. So, in truth, it was always welcome…in the world that never was. He sighed running his fingers lightly across the strings of his sitar. He turned his blonde head to the window and looked out up at the bright moon in the shape of a heart the only source of life and light in this bleak dark world. The soft pattering against the open windowpane made the blonde sigh, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. He never realized it, but…rain had always soothed him. No matter the condition. He guessed it was probably due to the fact that it was raining when he arrived in this place. It gave him comfort, a comfort he felt nostalgic about without ever trying to figure out why. He liked the feeling, and therefore, wouldn't interrupt its blanketing security it had over him.

He ran the tips of his bare fingers over the strings again a light tune coming from the instrument nestled in his lap. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to sing. Lyrics popped into his head whenever it rained, more so when it rained the when it didn't. Otherwise he usually had to think, for unconditionally long periods of time, until it clicked.

" A sweet melody for a bright white moon.

A shining rain shower in the late afternoon.

A tantalizing memory, its fragrance sweet as crystal drops of dew.

A forgotten song, a romance long gone if I only remembered you.

Empty melodies

Empty hearts.

A bright white moon.

To keep away…the dark."

He sighed taking a deep breath as the atmosphere returned to its dreary silent self once more. It was odd they didn't really need sleep. Or perhaps it was the memory of sleep that allowed them to? Either way, everyone was always so grumpy when it rained. He didn't even dare cross paths with Saix lest you wanted to be missing a limb or have a black eye. Despite this knowledge…it was ever so quiet this night, he couldn't figure out why either. Usually he would hear Axel and Roxas making a racket outside, a broken vase, a loud yell of anger from Marluxia which was then proceeded with more bangs suggesting that the scythe wielder and summoned his weapon, and then a silence as he would silently laugh to himself as he heard Superior's deep tenor voice through his door. Reprimanding all three of them and telling them to keep it down if they wanted to kill one another. He usually went out with the two on their annoy-Marluxia escapades but tonight was a dull night it seemed. So he leaned back, hands behind his head and he took up the familiar position of lying amongst his pillows staring, for an odd number of hours, at the blank ceiling wall. He sat up as he felt a certain irritating dryness beginning in his throat. For some reason, he mused; rain had always caused him unnatural thirst, as well.

He sighed again as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed, and twitched a little at the coldness of the floor beneath his bare feet. He was wearing blue boxers with raindrops on them, and a gray tee shirt. He didn't feel it necessary to put anything else on, not like anyone else was up anyway. He rubbed his blue eyes and yawned, stretching as he stood up. He made one last quick glance at the rain dotted window, and then walked to the door opening it to the bleak hallway of the castle.

He trudged down the long corridor, not really thinking about where he was going. Every once in a while he looked up at the door numbers. Six, Five, Four. He paused, and stopped counting mentally, blinking at the door. It was open but only by a little. Could Vexen be up? But why at such a late hour?

"Hehe…I should see if he made any new potions…" Demyx giggled silently to himself, remembering frequently the man's outrage when Axel, Roxas, or he had taken one of his many potions. He pressed an ungloved hand to the door and pushed it open a little, it creaked, rather loudly, and Demyx winced biting his lip as he pulled away. He looked into the room, his head drooping.

"Oh man. Guess I won't…" he sighed at he saw a long waterfall of blonde hair. Vexen had fallen asleep…in the middle of an experiment, again. He snickered closing the door and continuing on his way down the hall. A bright light not too far away gave the inclination that someone had forgotten to close the lights after they raided the fridge.

"Xigbar…I bet." He said as he stopped again. He looked at the wide open door of his Superior's room.

"S-Superior? Hellllo? Anyone in there?" Demyx frowned, knowing that if Xemnas was awake and in his room, he would've got a reprimanding by now. He scratched his head as he peered into the large room, it was dark with only the light of Kingdom Hearts filtering through the large windows to the far left of the room, the bed sheets were untouched, and no one was insight either.

"That's weird. Kinda creepy too." He gulped walking at a more brisk pace than before as a loud bang coming from behind him made him jump. He wheeled into the kitchen, panting a little sweat on his forehead.

"W-What was that?" he grimaced at the shake in voice. He put his hands to his head.

"Oooh stop being such a worry wort, Demyx! Superior is probably out around the castle somewhere…" he let out a rather shaky laugh as he walked to the sink and turned the chrome knobs, causing the faucet to spew clear water. He sighed as he cupped his hands and splashed a little water onto his face, his head shot up as a he saw something, like a shadow, skim across behind him in the windows reflection. He whirled around water dripping off his face, and landing silently on the tiled floor.

"Hello? Marluxia? Axel? Uh…R-Roxas…" his hand shook a little as he turned back around. Why was he feeling this sudden dread, a deep pang in his stomach he grabbed a glass and filled it to the top. Pressing it to his lips as he gulped down the water to about half way, before he screeched as a closet door banged shut. He panted gripping the edge of the sink in sheer terror.

"I-It's nothing…Demyx. You're just imagining things…haha…" he let out a nervous laugh before placing his cup on the counter, the lights flickered as a boom of thunder erupted through the silent world. He paled…turning slowly back around.

"Hello…Demyx" that voice. It made goose bumps rise on his arm and his stomach lurched. What was it? He blinked as the light above flickered.

"Oh…please don't go out…please don't go out…" He whispered turning around grabbing his cup and finishing his water. He felt fingers brush against his cheek as he shrieked and jumped away.

"W-Who's there! C-Come on guys this isn't funny!" Demyx yelled his voice shaking; he cursed himself trying to cover up the shake in his voice by clearing his throat and standing straight. A chuckle, another flicker of the lights, he gulped edging towards the door. When the light popped. Blanketing the room in pure and utter darkness.

"Oh…no." he whispered as he felt himself go cold.

"Now…you're mine!" Demyx gasped as he felt a gloved hand, the same one that touched his face before, grab his shoulder and slam him into the sinks rims. He gasped as he looked up a hooded man standing before him. His eyes widened as he noticed that the jacket was none other than the one worn by the Organization.

"W-Who are you!" he asked his voice quavering. The man chuckled.

"Can you feel it?" he pulled out a long glinting knife and brought it to Demyx's exposed arm. He pressed the knife into his skin; the blonde gasped trying to pull away.

"S-Stop! W-What do you want?" the man chuckled at the boy's frightened questions.

"Can you feel the terror? One who has no emotions? Can you feel the pain, and anguish that of which you have so long forgotten?" The man whispered slicing the boy's arm open, Demyx gasped. He couldn't move, his body was ridged and un-answering to his calls, to run, get away. He tried to yell, but his throat closed up. The person smirked their teeth gleaming in Kingdom Hearts luminous glow. They brought the bloody knife to their mouth, and licked the blood off. Demyx stood rooted to the ground his legs weakening as he looked at his bloody arm. Shivers went down his spin at the sight of the gruesome cuts, and the blood dripping off his arm.

"So. How does it feel? Demyx." The man whispered into his ear as he brought the blades point to Demyx's cheek.

"N-No…s-stop, please." Demyx managed to gasp out before he felt the cold steel cut into his flesh. His cheek burned as the knife was buried into his skin, and he tried with all his might to think of a place to escape to, yes, the key word-escape. The man smiled as he licked the blood off the boy's cheek causing Demyx's eyes to widen a bit as he tried, but failed, to break the man's grip on him. The stranger turned around grabbing a towel that was lying on the tabletop. There was an long pause as the man wiped his knife on the towel, uncaring to Demyx's labored breathing due to fright. The gentle rain pattered against the window. Demyx looked down at the floor, thinking, that just a few hours ago he was playing to this rain, the very same rain that now laughed as it watched him, from it's glassy surface as he slowly succumbed to the lack of blood and coldness, death.

"You see. I am trying, not to hurt you…too badly. But your pathetic excuse for an emotion is annoying me quite a lot." The man hissed slicing Demyx's other arm, he watched as he brought the knife slowly to the boy's abdomen and push in forcefully, Demyx gasped his blue eyes trailing down to the red blotch forming on his tee shirt. He saw the boy slide to the floor, blood dripping down the sink as well. He grabbed Demyx by the collar.

"You could have been…so much more, Demyx. Let alone, free! Why did you choose this life? A life of boundaries, cells, bars and chains to keep you down?" he let go of Demyx pausing as he looked down at the boy who's arms were both cut, from the top of his shoulder to wrist. Pools of crimson lay at either side as the red liquid dripped down his arms. Demyx panted, his bangs hanging over his fevered head, as he looked up at the unknown man, his mind blank. He couldn't call for help since no one came into mind. He couldn't even gather enough energy to summon his beloved sitar. It pained him to know that it was lying lifeless on his bed, alone. Just like he was. His eyes widened a bit as the man crouched down before him, he placed his knife on Demyx other cheek.

"I'm sorry…dear friend of mine. It is…for your own good, I'm afraid." He never expected it. And yet he did. He saw the knife rise up to about eye level, but he never would of thought that the man would slice right across both his eyes.

"Ah!" He let out a muffled cry, since a hand was forcefully placed over his mouth. Everything was black. Yet, he was trembling. How! How was it possible? He didn't have emotions he should be feeling anything. He didn't want to die! Not like this!

_Why is this happening!_

"I…shall free you from this despicable life you're living…"

"No…please. I-I don't want…die. I need to find a-a heart!" Demyx whispered his eyes shut tight, as he trembled when the man placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

"You who were born in darkness. Shall see nothing but darkness." The man whispered.

He felt…what was the word? Happy? Yes. That's it. Happiness something he hadn't felt since...gods he didn't even know when the last time he felt this...emotion called happiness. Had he been a nobody for that long? Or, maybe it was because prior to his death and turning into a nobody he never was really happy. That could be it, couldn't it? If only he knew who he was...what really happened. He wouldn't feel this depressed, this sadness. He hated to be sad. It never suited him, not even if he knew that he wasn't wanted by this Organization, even if he knew he was an outsider that he wasn't like the rest, that they…hated him.

_You were never meant to fight...Demyx. Your heart. Your soul was never evil to begin with. Remember._

This voice...it seems so familiar to him, but who's is it?

* * *

A small light erupts the blackness encompassing his vision. A small boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes, is crying in the dirt road as a broken instrument lies at his side. A group of three other boys stand before the weeping child kicking dirt in his face as they surround him. 

"Haha, aw. You gonna cry because we brwoke yer little stupid guitar!" a boy with chocolate brown hair asked as he grabbed the blonde by the collar of his shirt.

"L-Leave me alone!"

"SHUT UP! Don't tell me what to do you little wimp!" the young boy with blonde hair was punched in the stomach, various times, as the two other boys took shots on him. He felt the boy's grip, the one who was holding him; release him as he fell onto the ground. He heard the three other boys yelp and cry in pain.

"SHIT! It's those god damn teenagers!"A black haired boy grabbed the blonde by the arm, "You never told us you had older friends, you little…" A rock hit the black haired boy on the side of head, and he whirled around. A boy with a jet black pony tail and what seemed, oddly enough, the beginning of graying hair in a stripe down the middle.

"Ah, ah, ah! Didn't anyone ever tell you, it's not nice to pick on others." The boy winked, pointing behind him as two others, around his age of eighteen or so, stepped out from the woods.

"Shit…lets get out of here!" all three cried, sprinting towards the town, a few miles down the road. Another boy, with black hair as well and unruly side burns bent down in front of the sniffing blonde, he let out a sigh.

"Medy…you really need to learn to stick up for yourself, you know?" the blonde sniffed, hugging his knees, and turning his head away. The boy with the side burns turned around and shrugged. Another boy with bright blue hair and slightly pointed ears harrumphed, walking over to Medy and grabbing him dragging him up off the ground.

"Listen to me, Medy! If you want to survive! If you want to even attempt to make a life for yourself here…you better learn how to fight!"

"Sai! Come on…"

"No! Braig! Why the hell did you have to go and pick a damned fight with them! We're outsiders as it is! You didn't have to go and pull that hero shit!" Sai stated, very calmly and collected, as he stared down his senior. Braig snorted and shrugged.

"Whatever I was just practicing my aim is all".

He looked at his sitar, the one his mother gave him…before she died. He loved it, and now…it was gone. Destroyed…he'd nothing to remember her by…empty. He felt so…empty, as he silently picked up the remains and held them close.

"S-Sorry." He whispered, as he started to walk away.

"I…didn't mean to cause you trouble." He sniffed, tears trailing down his eyes.

"Hey! I know!" Braig shouted pointing. Sai snorted.

"You? Actually know something? Braig winced, "Ouch, harsh much?" The boy with the side burns and black spiked hair snorted.

"What were you going to suggest, Braig?" he attempted to sound interested.

"Even, duh! He's like…crazy about that crap, isn't he? He'll fix your sitar in no time, little buddy!" Braig said briskly walking over to the blonde and wrapping an arm around, as he steered him to the woods.

"You know…Even doesn't like it when you give him too much at once, Braig." Medy's eyes widened.

_THAT VOICE! It's his!_

Blackness. "I'm so…cold." He laughed. "Oh. Yeah. That's right. I don't have…a heart. But that was…"

_Remember…me…REMEMBER!_

* * *

He gasped as he took his last breath. The man looked down at him, he knife dripping with fresh blood. He dipped his finger into it, and pulled out a piece of paper. He slammed it on the table and wrote. Until the voice of the others filled the castle. He turned and looked once more at Demyx a small smile on his face. 

"I'm glad…Demyx. You finally are in peace." He summoned the boy's sitar and rested it on his cold lap, disappearing into a portal afterwards, never to look back, again.

_A **silence**, a brief pause._

_Like a peaceful interlude between the ending of one song and the beginning of the next. The crowd silently waiting in undeterred anticipation. An instrument, a melody, a symphony from the heart, as you graze the strings with light fingertips._

_There are no words to describe **peace** once one has felt its aura._

_Silence as a crystal rain drips down from the black charcoal sky. A wish. A promise between friends. **Forgotten** just as the chalk drawings are erased by a subtle rain shower._

_This is what silence brings, and how it shall end. Truth held only by its **wielder**._

_Chains of fate._

_Chains of memories._

_Silence now. As the rain-washes over thee.

* * *

_Yeaaah...sorry all you Demyx fans... xD It pained me, it really did! BUT! There is more to come...hopefully. I dunno though. I shall se from your reveiws! Get the hint? Good! REVEIW! NOW! xD_  
_


	2. Smoke

Puzzles. Everything was a puzzle…to him anyway. They were, sort of, a non-discriminate something. Something to take his mind off of all the blatantly meaningless jobs he was given when he was in the castle. It comforted him, in a way nothing else could. It was also…a something he got used to doing, day in and day out. It was a something that he could live with and not have to worry about the consequence of his actions. For, he figured, if he did the puzzle wrong he could just…always start over again. Or come back to it later. But, no. His life was by far nothing like that. Because no matter the color, size, or gender of the person if a puzzle was hard, it usually was hard for everyone. Unfortunately, he wasn't like everyone. He wasn't anyone, in truth. An empty shell cast to the side as the life and light was sucked out of him, blanketing his very being in darkness. The idea, although as morbid as it seemed, was simply a fact of his, not so alive, life and nearly nonexistent and void existent. He could deal with those facts, when thrown at him by the others around him when he smirked. Admonishing him almost angrily, of course the idea of them being angry was to say in the least idiotic given the fact it was a feeling therefore, they couldn't necessarily portray it. So, after awhile, he stopped smiling, something he believed to be a reaction at best rather than an expression of emotion. Zexion figured that he was once happy in his past life; therefore smiling was but a small remnant of it.

He remembered the time he told Xemnas his theory. He had said it sternly and if not "passionately" if that was possible, which it clearly was not. He remembered Xemnas' words, "Don't be foolish, Zexion. We can no longer remember that which was our past." He remembered cringing as Xemnas let out a hollow heartless laugh inwardly he himself chuckled. Knowing fully well that smiling and laughing was not plausible, and yet he still did it, a reaction. He laughed because...for once, just this once, he truly understood and felt the meaning of the emptiness that was his being. He knew about it before this little meeting, it just...never fully sank in. But, through this private meeting he became truly aware...and hence began his musing on his life. He became silent, more silent than before, and every time Xemnas saw him, the silver haired man smirk. Like a satisfactory smile, knowing that he had knocked down one of his members dreams, hopes. Zexion never did like that. He really in truth didn't like anyone. It didn't matter though. Nothing ever really did. It's just the facts of his, and everyone else's life. They were living in a perpetually never-ending cycle of neither dead, nor alive. And the only way to break its hold was to gain a heart.

His life was meaningless. All their lives were. Trying to satisfy their hunger by gaining something they could never truly have. For...what if they did regain their hearts, and become whole again? Would it really be worth it? What of all the people they killed trying to achieve their goal? They wouldn't just accept them with open arms, it would be better if they stayed non-existent, no one cared about them anyway, at least that's what he thought. And yet...something within him, something buried beneath all the shadows and facade of content, he had to show day in and day out until he truly did become whole again, pulled him, edged him on, nagged and angered him to a point where he might burst and lose it. It puzzled him, it truly did, and he didn't know how to solve it. Another thing puzzled him as well. At this very moment, actually.

Sleep. He was indeed asleep, his vision pure black, like the familiar darkness. They didn't actually need sleep. Considering they weren't actually alive, and therefore didn't need the energy or rejuvenation it gave. Food as well. Here he was, stating clearly and adamantly, that they need neither food nor sleep. And yet, lying next to his bed, on his oak night table, was a plate and glass. Food. He was unnaturally hungry last night, the storm that came had awoken this urge to eat, like nothing ever before. Everyone, he believed, was fast asleep as well. He couldn't remember the time where he actually watched Vexen fall asleep at his desk, he was taking notes, and the next thing he saw, surprised him, he smirked as he saw the older man steadily asleep on his desk, a pen still in hand, he walked out of the room, putting his notes to the side and closing the door. He knew fully well that Demyx was quite possibly the only one up last night. For...it was like that time...long ago. A few years after Demyx had joined the organization, and he was not tired, nor able to keep still.

* * *

He walked down the dully-lit hallways gazing at nothing in particular. Maybe the black landscape of the deserted city below him, or...the white washed walls ahead of him. Either way, he was silent. Unobtrusive to anyone around him, like a shadow almost. His eyes swiveled, from the floor, to the kitchen door, as a melodious thrum came from behind them. In his mind he knew who was behind that door, and he smiled a little. Maybe he was grateful for the company, or, maybe it was because he was anticipating the conversation he was about to have. But no matter which way he fitted the pieces. The puzzle that was Demyx, was the one and only thing that actually made him...feel different. The sent he gave off…it wasn't like anything before. It was like…a grassy meadow after a summer rain shower. A beach empty and deserted with only the crashing of the waves to break the silence. Like drops of water falling rhythmically from the sky against one's window. Demyx…made him feel…something he never felt, and it was this same boy, who he secretly admired in every which way possible, even if he was a higher number. 

The boy himself was a mystery to him, of course it wasn't just because he had no past, they all had no pasts, what puzzled Zexion was...how carefree, how energetic, how...emotional Demyx was. It puzzled him to know, that somewhere out there, there were others just like him, the musical sort, who had hearts, had emotions, had feelings, and yet...they still didn't compare to the blondes melody, tune, or rhythm. It amazed him to a point where...Zexion was almost envious; he wished he could feel that way, but sadly…he couldn't. So. He spent more time with the blonde than anyone else, and in doing so; he tried to fit together the pieces of a very complex puzzle. One, which to this very day, he still hasn't figured out…yet. But, he didn't mind it, not one bit.

He stopped at the white door, pressing a gloved hand lightly on the smooth wooden frame. Another thrum, and he closed both eyes listening to the melody. He pushed gently and the door silently swung open, and there, sitting on the counter top, sitar in one hand and nestled against his body, and in the other a pen and beneath it was a piece of paper. He muttered to himself as he scribbled, crossed out and then huffed, blowing a few of his bangs upwards as he looked up, surprised. He squeaked, jumped off the counter and looked at his sitar, almost frightened, and if not worried. He was about to send it away...

"Z-Zex...ion..." he gulped, "I-I'm sorry!" Zexion sighed at the shaky tone of Demyx's voice.  
"P-Please don't tell Superior on me! I-I know he gets mad when he finds out I've been fooling around with my music...please don't say anything!" Demyx cried biting his lip. Zexion found this understandable. Xemnas, when angered, could be extremely dangerous, not as dangerous as Saix, but...close enough. He didn't really feel nor care though, just because he had no feelings otherwise he would've, most likely, not have told anyone anyway. He wanted to call the boy before him pathetic, but refrained. Instead he waved his hand dismissingly.

"Demyx...what're you doing?" He asked monotonously as he stared at the boy, who was fingering his sitar.  
"I-I-I couldn't sleep! T-The rain...it always makes me unable to sleep! It gives me such great song ideas!" Demyx replied almost excitedly.

"Let me hear." Demyx blinked at the dark blue haired young mans request.  
"You actually want to hear...my song?"  
"Well...you were staying up all night to write it, am I correct?" Demyx nodded, grabbing the paper from the counter.  
"Then. It shouldn't go to waste. All your effort, I mean. Besides...I couldn't sleep anyway." Zexion mumbled. Demyx giggled a little but stopped as Zexion looked back up at him, with a glare almost. The blonde cleared his throat, and ran a hand along the three strings of the sitar. Zexion noted, while the blonde played, with much detail that Demyx's fingers were quite deft and nimble they had to be actually. For him to play that instrument so well.

"I watched as the rain was falling, but I couldn't see your face.  
My heart ached even in the lovely weather as I stood there in place.  
You were gone from my sight and I was soaking wet, and cold.  
My heart was gone, and you broke it, I just wanted you to know.  
These empty tears that I cry, no longer make any sense.  
I thought that I'd forget you but you're in every breath.  
And I can't stop my aching heart, even if you're gone.  
I just wanted you to know that the rain has stopped.  
Rain has stopped.  
Since you have gone."

Demyx strung the last few notes, and then the room fell silent. Zexion had been sitting there as Demyx played, nibbling on a piece of bread his eyes closed. The tune was upbeat. Not as mellow as the others he'd heard from the boy. Something about the presence of the room, the presence of them both, changed. He blinked looking up at a pair of blue eyes.

"What'd ya' think?" Demyx asked sitting back against a chair he'd taken up. Zexion rolled it around in his head.  
"It was...fair." he stated, not knowing if that was the right response to give or not. In truth...the song hurt. A heart? Is that what happens when one has a heart? He was so curious to know...he wanted...he wanted to feel.

"Say Demyx?"  
"Hm?" the blonde had gone immediately back to strumming on his sitar again. Zexion inwardly sighed. Another few tunes came out, along with mumblings as Demyx put the pen between his teeth and crumpled up the paper.

"If we ever...get hearts." Zexion paused shaking his head his gloved hand over his left eye he smirked.

"I mean. When we do get hearts. Would you…like to come with me?" Demyx by this time had his mouth gaping open and the only noise to follow his action was the soft clinking of the pen, to the floor below. He blinked a few times, not sure what to say.

"Y-You really want me to come with you? Zexion?" Demyx asked awe clearly in his voice. Zexion nodded his hand moving to his chin.

"I've been thinking about it…for a rather long time." He said dully as he got up and walked over to Demyx's chair, placing one hand one either side of the blonde, who backed up against the chair a little as Zexion moved closer.

What was it? What did he have…no one else did. All the others…were missing something, but not him. Demyx made him feel…

"You make me feel…like I have a heart…" he whispered as his left hand came up from underneath Demyx's chin tilting his head so that he was looking directly at him. He really didn't know why he'd done it. Nor, how either. Another unsolvable puzzle. One that he truly could never solve. Maybe it was…because he had nothing to grasp. Nothing to show proof of his existence. That maybe…by trying to gain something he could never posses it was tearing him up inside. Like a vicious storm, or raging fire. But, with Demyx he felt at peace, no longer waging war within his head, or thinking. He just did things.

His lips pressed lightly against the blondes his chest brushing up against his as he leaned forward. But he pulled away quickly. Not wanting to be caught like that. Demyx just sat there and blinked, unable to response to his superior's motive for that action, or the consequences that would come. Zexion stood straight.

"Write some more songs for me, won't you Demyx?" he heard the blonde scoffed.

"You kiss me and then ask me to do something for you! Zexion, what was…"

"I don't…I don't know. Will you write them, or not? I must tell you, I'm not very good with words, nor writing. You wouldn't want to have to sing to them…" Zexion turned around, now facing the door.

"Where are you going?" he heard Demyx ask almost pitifully, like he didn't want to be left alone.

"Some of us…have more productive things to do." He replied with a hidden smirk.

"Music is productive!"

"Only for the ones who write it." He retorted.

"That's not true, lots of people use music to study and stuff." Demyx said getting up.

"Ah. But the real question is…how well do they do on the material they studied." Zexion replied taking one final look at the blonde, whose back was turned, as he gazed out the window.

"Th-Thanks. Zexion." Demyx sighed, looking at the floor. "You're the only one…you know. Who ever listened to my music, willingly anyway." Zexion nodded, and then walked to the door. He never really understood _why_ he'd kissed the blonde. It just felt…right, in a way. Considering they couldn't express emotions. So. He took it as a form of a thank you something he rarely, if ever, did. He turned around looking back at Demyx from his position before the portal.

"Thank you. Demyx." The blonde blinked as he heard the whoosh, suggesting Zexion had left, he couldn't respond in time, though. And he looked up, only to see the plain white kitchen wall.

From that moment on Zexion never had told anyone about that little incident. Not a soul. He could've told Lexaeus. He actually could've told the man anything, personal or not. And he would sit there silently, nodding, only saying a few words that reminded him more of a cryptic code than advice. But no. Instead he kept it between the blonde and himself and every time it rained, down pour, or drizzle. He'd find Demyx's scent, and appear in the room with the blonde who had always taken up his sitar, no matter what time he arrived. And he…well he would come and sit, eyes closed, as the music played and silently listen, never making a sound. Sometimes he would bring a puzzle or two, to do as well, because…he learned, and apologized for, that music was not just productive for the player but for the listener as well. And some of his finished puzzles were proof of just that.

* * *

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up in bed, his blue bangs falling over his right eye as they both narrowed. 

"What a strange dream to have." He mused shaking his head, as he sniffed the air. Everyone's scent was present…except his.

"Demyx…" he let out a sigh as he tossed his bed sheets to the side and placed both bare feet on the floor. He twitched a little at the coldness and then got changed, putting his coat and boots on, for he never walked around the castle bare foot, it just wasn't his thing, he guessed. A knock, and he turned to see a showering mop of dirty blonde hair, and a pair of cynical eyes peering at him from the open door.

"Zexion. Where is Demyx?" Vexen asked slightly annoyed.

"I was just going to go find him." He replied walking out his door as Vexen moved aside.

"You better find him quickly, then. Superior is having a meeting soon and you know how he gets when anyone is late." He was going to say something to the extent, that's because Superior acts like a baby, but he refrained and only nodded as he heard Vexen sigh and disappear through a portal. He narrowed his eyes sniffing again. He went back to his room, remembering the plate and cup from the night before and he made a portal to Demyx's room. He blinked as he pushed open the unlocked door.

"Demyx. Are you in here?" he asked, getting no reply as he looked at an empty room. The boy's sitar wasn't even present, which puzzled Zexion even more. Something was wrong. Extremely wrong. He turned and made another portal to the kitchen standing now before the white washed door, that he had passed through on so many occasions to hear the melodious tune of the sitar. He pushed on the door a deep foreboding rising within him. He gasped. The only sound reverberating through the empty kitchen was the sound of glass shattering on the tile floor. He looked, his eyes wide.

"D-Demyx!" he ran over to the blonde's unmoving body. He slipped a little as he saw the pool of blood on the floor around the blonde. He stepped backwards, his eyes going to the table and the pieces of paper on top of it. He snatched it. His eyes reading the note that was undoubtedly written in blood.

I see you've found this note…number six. Too bad for your little friend, though. You best watch your back. You're next.

_"You who are in seek of the truth, be puzzled no more...for you are the master of your own fate."_

What the hell was going on? What did it mean…Demyx was dead…he was alone, and yet. The smile on the boys face was a smile of content. Happiness. Had Demyx really been happy when he died? He couldn't bear to stand there; he crumpled the paper between his left hand and left the kitchen, where the night before, he had left the lights on.

"S-Superior!" Everyone turned around. They all stared at an odd sight. A disgruntled Zexion. Xemnas eyebrow rose as he watched the blue haired boy stand before the long marble table, a nobody symbol etched in its center. Surround the room, was thirteen large throne-like chairs. Pillars stood at all four corners of the massive room supporting its white walls.

"Zexion? What's wrong? And where is Demyx?" Xemnas asked in his dull non-caring tone.

"Demyx is dead Superior!" Zexion yelled back. Everyone blinked. Silence.

"Is that so? What a pity. Do you know who has committed Demyx murder, Zexion?

"I can't believe you! You don't even care! Your members are dying, and yet none of you even care…" Zexion murmured his eyes burning with anger.

"I asked you a question, Zexion."

"No. Sir, I don't know…"

"Very well. We shall be on alert. There is a trespasser in our castle."

"What about Demyx! Are you just going to leave him, in the kitchen!" Zexion yelled back. He couldn't stop himself; he didn't know what the hell was going on with him. He was digging himself deeper.

"And why do you care so much about him, Zexion? He never did much for this organization anyway. Now. If you care so much about number nine you can go and get rid of his body yourself, and don't come back till you do." Xemans replied malice stringed through his voice as he leered at the boy, his orange eyes blaring in the white rooms light. Zexion turned around, letting out a shaky sigh as he gripped the not in his left hand and walked off into a portal. Appearing back in his dimly lit room.

"Zexion…what's gotten into you?" a voice asked him. Vexen.

"I'm not in the mood Vexen, I suggest you leave me…now." He paused his eyes widening. This scent…it wasn't the scientists. No. It was the scent that surrounded Demyx. His killer! Zexion spun around his eyes darting back and forth they narrowed.

"Who's there…I know you're not Vexe-" he gasped as he turned to see Vexen leering at him, a smile of pure malice spread across his face. His hand shot up to Zexion's bangs, the one covering his right eye, and he pushed them away exposing his right eye.

"My, my. What a pretty eyes you've got…Zexion." Zexion hissed and smacked the man's hand away, and the image of Vexen disappeared. Zexion's hair fell back into place but something was off. Terribly off. "The power of illusion?" he gasped as he slammed the note onto his desk, his eyes re-reading over the message. An icy laugh, and he gasped again. He panted as he saw blood drip onto the note. His right hand rose shakily to his bangs, now wet and dark with blood. He let out a cry as he gripped the rim of the desk, his right hand over his right eye, which was now bleeding profusely.

"W-What did you do…what did you do to my eye!" he managed to gasp as he saw with his left eye the pool of blood forming on the desk. There was so much. All from his eye? He hissed as he the pain got worse.

"Oh no, Zexion. You've had this wound all your life…your eyes. One, which can see color, and the other…that sees the true colors of your world. Black. And White." He heard a voice whisper in his ear, and then let out a heartless laugh, as he spun around. No one was there, though. He hissed as the pain intensified. He gripped his right eye harder as his vision in that eye became blackened, more and more. The warm liquid running down his face and chin dripping onto the floor as he staggered to the door. _Vexen!_ He needed the scientist. He could fix his eye. Tell him what was wrong…

"Going so soon? Zexion? Why. I haven't even gotten to the fun part, yet." A man in an organization coat replied as Zexion sniffed the air, he backed up just in time to dodge a silver dagger. He rolled to his left as the man stabbed downward, missing him that time, but he arched upwards turning to Zexion and sliced into the boy's exposed back. He hissed as he felt the daggers clean edge cut open the top of his shoulder as he tried to get away. The man grabbed him by his left arm, spun him around and slammed him into the wall. He grimaced his right eye closed tightly as black dried blood covered it. He glared with his left.

"Why…why did you kill Demyx!" He whispered. The man snorted.

"Fool. You don't deserve to live, if you don't know that answer!" The last thing he saw was the man's hand rushing up from the side. A cheap hit. Since it was his right side. Then next thing he saw…was utter, and complete darkness. Not like it was any different from when he was awake. This just seemed more…peaceful. A long silence, and then.

* * *

A shattering. Something like glass. A young boys cry and a woman's shouting. A smack of a hardened hand against skin and bone. 

"I-Ienzo!" A woman cried. "Shut up! Stop trying to comfort him!" a man yelled as he yanked the woman by the hair. A young boy, whose right eye was now bloodied and wounded, looked up from his position on the floor. A puzzle piece was in his shaking hand. He sobbed, as the pain intensified in his eye and he stood shakily to his feet. A hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder shaking him and forcing him to look up at the man, the one who had caused him so much pain.

"I told you not to hang out with those boys, anymore. Ienzo." His father whispered gripping his shoulder tightly. He whimpered as a shooting pain ran down his arm, as he tried to break his fathers grip.

"They aren't like us…why do you insist ON DISOBEYING ME!" He yelled as his hand came up, fast and quick, and slammed itself into his right side. He gasped as he fell once more.

"S-Stop! Please Shiu! He's learned his lesson!" a woman, who was his mother, cried out desperately.

"Get out of my sight, you disobedient brat!" his father spat, and he glared, tears forming in his left eye as he got to his feet, and then ran. Ran with everything he had, as he rushed out into the stormy night, never looking, or turning back.

He sobbed, the pain in his right eye was a little better, but it was still closed shut. Swollen from the glass shards that had pierced it. The dried blood on his face and neck was being washed off by cold, tuneless, rain. He shivered sniffing as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm.

"I-Ienzo!" he turned at the sound of a familiar, friendly voice. Braig. The young man with the long ponytail gasped.

"IENZO! W-What happened to your eye! Hey! Ienzo!" Bragi shook him looking at his bloodied right eye.

"God…who did this?" Braig asked, his eyes narrowing at the boy's silence treatment. He grabbed Ienzo by the shoulder, and the boy winced, breaking away and huddling closer to himself.

"S-Shui…" he sniffed. Braig's yellow eyes widened and then narrowed.

"Son of Bitch! Your own father! God damn it! Ienzo why didn't you tell us sooner!" Braig yelled clenching his fists.

"Braig. Now isn't the time…" Dilan replied stepping out from the surrounding forest. The rain. It was so peaceful. After all he went through. Day in, and Day out. It puzzled him as to how normal he still was, even if his father wasn't…the nicest person. He still managed to forgive him. His left eye watered up tears about to flow. He just wanted to sleep. He gripped Braig around the chest, taking the older boy by surprise.

"Briag! I-I sorry…I have nowhere else…" Braig looked down at the soaking wet boy, and then to Dilan, who nodded.

"It's alright. Ienzo. You're welcome anytime." He replied smiling as the boy sobbed into his waist, his red tears mixing in with the clear, pure, rain.

"Come on. We better get Even to check out that eye of yours."

* * *

He gasped as he awoke from the dream, his body shaking. He looked at his hands they were in some sort of contraption. His head as well. He tried to pull out, but. He was stuck, and he didn't know how to break free. Tears. His gloved left hand gently wiped away the liquid from under his left eye. Was he…actually crying? 

"NO! It can't! We can't…"

"Express emotions. Is that what you wanted to say, Zexion?" the man appeared, walking out from the shadows. He looked down at the boy, who was in a guillotine. His right bangs hanging over his bloodied right eye.

"You know. The reason for your power. Don't you? The ability to smell others scents." He chuckled as he walked forward stopping as he summoned something into his hand. "Your eyesight. You compensate for that, with your ability. But. I bet you never really thought of it that way, am I correct?" Zexion didn't answer. He just stared at the floor, his right eye throbbing. Why was no one coming? Didn't anyone realize he was missing for a prolong amount of time? He tried, with little effort, to break free of his imprisonment, but he was tired. His left eye stared at the dark floor. He couldn't tell where he was. Some sort of torture chamber? Since when had there been any such thing in the castle? He looked at the man as he slammed the piece of paper onto the floor, a pencil along side it. He grabbed Zexion's chin, he tried to break away, but to no avail.

"This is a puzzle." He motioned to the paper, his eyes flickering. "Figure it out, and you live. Otherwise. Well…you should know." He smiled as he let go of Zexion and stood strait. He waved his hand and a clock appeared, suspended in mid-air.

"Time's ticking…Zexion." His eye looked down at the paper. The constant tick of the clock becoming annoyingly, and obnoxiously loud as he tried to figure out the puzzle.

_That which one doesn't know has been right there beside him all along. From dawn's ascent. To evening's awakening. Who am I is but a fragment of the puzzle. The real question is…who are you? Zexion._

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Tick. Tick. Tick. He looked up at the clock, eye narrowing. The pain on his right side becoming increasingly annoying. And then…silence. He gulped as the clock dissipated into a purplish black smoke.

"Time's up. You. Lose...boy" the man said a smile spreading across his face, exposing point canines. Zexion gasped, as he saw strands of the man's hair as he briskly turned and began to walk away. _SILVER!_

"NO!" He yelled looking up his left eye wide as the last thing he heard was the snap of a rope, and the feathery whoosh of a steel sliver blade cutting downward through the air.

_It surprises me…Ienzo._

_**I-Ienzo…is that what my name was? Heh. I understand now. Who you were…I understand…who I…was.**_

_To think. Everyday of your life, you went about solving puzzles. Day in, and day out. And yet, the greatest puzzle of all…was your own life._

_An **empty** kiss. On that lonesome night._

_You who don't have hearts…shall be **redeemed**._

_The **eye** which sees nothing but the truth is blinded by that which is so close. An eye masking the **past** of one's empty self._

_The silence that binds, as the **crimson** shower continues to fall down._

_You who lack a heart. Are now at peace with one's self._

_You held the **key** to your own fate…the turning point of one's life._

_The secret. **Unknown** to the eye of its beholder._

_The chain. Invincible as it wraps around you, constricting all **connected** to it._

_A chain of memories, far too old to remember. The rust of one's **time**…has made the links brittle and weak._

_A chain of memories…_

_Your fate. Has been sealed._

_Be at **peace**._

* * *

Wow...um...sorry for the longness? Dx I truly am. Geez...I didn't mean for it to end up that long...and I didn't even put in all the flash backs I would've liked. But. Eh. They weren't too important...UGH! Yeah, so Zexion kicked the bucket...I shall flee from fangirls now... :jumps out a window: Read and Reveiw!  



	3. Ice

_Cold…Cold…why is everything…so…_

_Cold._

He snapped out of his daydream as he continued, at a brisk pace, down the darkened hallways of the castle. He didn't bother looking into Demyx room; he knew the boy was dead, gone. Just like that. He was sent to find Zexion by the Superior, who felt it necessary that the boy be punished for his out spoken rudeness at the meeting before. But, Zexion…had left over an hour ago. If not longer. Something was wrong…horribly wrong and Vexen knew, even he didn't want to know, what had happened to the Cloaked Schemer.

He was a scientist. With it, came a highly insurmountable duty. This he knew. And yet. With it came an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, knowledge that could one day break him, or, possibly help him. He never looked into the future for he never believed in fate. Fate was just an excuse for those too simple minded and fearful of their own mortality. Blaming it on something that they could not prove, nor see. Destiny. Fate. These words were but empty lifeless strings of vowels and consonants their meaning void, and useless, to him. For he believed in things, which he could see, feel, and touch. Not these supernatural frivolous lies people used to go about their daily lives. He gagged at the thought, when he first was sent to the other worlds, to collect hearts; he twitched as he looked up at the bright golden statue of the people's god. He smiled wickedly as he watched number eight burn the temple to the ground. _Foolish mortals. You believe in that which you cannot see. And look where it gets you. Death and unending servitude to the Organization._ His words came crashing back into his head like a ton of bricks.

Wasn't he…the same? Just a lap dog for this…Organization. A scientist, yes. But under the control of the Superior. He discarded the thought. He thought too much, he envied the others. How they did things with out the least bit of thought. Science was his passion. He always turned to it even if the odds of a finding an answer were slim. It comforted him. Like a blanketing snow…his eyes widened as he paused mid-step in the hallway. A gloved hand going to his head, gripping his throbbing temple.

_Snow…why…why did it._

"_Why…Why did you risk your life…for me?"_

"_I love you. That…my darling. Is exactly why."_

"_But! Eve…"_

"_Sh! You needn't worry about them anymore. I shall…protect you."_

He gasped, falling onto one knee as he panted from the pain flowing through his head like a raging rive. One eye was shut, and his teeth clenched. The pain died down, and then completely vanished. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, blinking in confusion. His hands…they were.

"Shaking…" he whispered his eyes narrowing. He shook his head, running a hand through his long dirty blonde hair, as he got shakily to his feet once more, and trudged on.

"Where could he be?" Vexen muttered as he came to number six's door. It looked darker. Of course, Zexion was always the one enveloping himself in an air of mystery, shadow, and smoke. The scientist remembered vaguely asking the teen why he did it. He remembered chuckling at the boy's response.

* * *

"Why. Vexen. Surely we must become one with our surroundings. I am but…embracing, my power, darkness." 

"It disgusts you…doesn't it?" Zexion looked up from his puzzle, his hand wavering over a piece, about to be set into place. The boy didn't respond.

"It disgusts me." He replied, breaking the silence, and having the boy finally look up at him.

"Everything about this place disgusts me." He spat. "Our lives. Our meaninglessness, our hopes. Nothing will really come of it, if we do get hearts. What the hell have we to go back to? Nothing. And that's precisely why I can't stand this…this life we're leading." Vexen replied his eyes going to the floor. He never once confided in anyone his true feelings. Yet, here he was, telling this boy everything. Zexion stared with those cold, uncaring, lifeless eyes.

"I understand." He replied monotonously turning back to his puzzle. Vexen sighed as he hung his head a little.

"Well. I see you're quite the conversationalist, number six. Don't let me waste anymore of your precious time." Vexen said sarcastically as he turned around.

"Your eyes…they used to be…full of life. Am I correct?" Vexen jerked to a halt, turning around, his hair flying out and settling neatly behind him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Zexion! I don't remember what my eyes used to be. And probably never will. Now. I expect you to come to my room after you're done with that…puzzle. I have much research and work to do." He heard the boy snort as he walked out of the room. He paused in front of the window. His hollow eyes staring back at him.

"Life you say…" he let out a quick laugh, "Ridiculous." And continued back to his lab.

* * *

He blinked. His eyes tracing the pool of blood in the room. He bent down to examine it. It was fresh enough. Not dried completely yet. Which suggested Zexion had just been…killed. He paused on the word as a slight shiver went through his body. He spun around as the door slammed shut, bathing the room in darkness. 

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath, fumbling for the light switch. _Found it._ He flipped on the lights, and gasped. A man draped in black sat, legs crossed over one another, on the Schemers bed. He brought a hand to his masked chin, and chuckled.

"Well, well, well. You seem to lose no time when it comes to…investigating, Vexen." The man said, hissing his name as if it were a vile word. Vexen's green eyes narrowed as he summoned his shield.

"Who are you…and what business do you have here?"

"I should be asking _you_ the same question…Vexen." Vexen's eyebrows knitted together.

"What do you mean by that statement? I'm here to obtain a heart. Why else would I be in this wretched place? For kicks?" he stated harshly. The man barked a laugh as his head tilted backwards.

"Fool. Tell me. Why do you think you're so obsessed with science? Do you think it's because you have an undying obligation to your Superior, and therefore feel you are fulfilling it by studying and constantly experimenting…never stopping your quest for knowledge…is that what you feel…or should I say think?"

"Of course not! I have no ties to this Organization…I'm merely here because they…they…"

"Share the same fate as you, am I correct?" Vexen paused. What was the man trying to get at? The man came in fast. Too fast for Vexen to catch and defend himself, he gasped as his arm, holding his shield, was twisted behind his back. He growled as he was shoved up against the door, his shield clattering lifelessly to the floor.

"You FOOL! Then what other reason have you for staying here! You could've had a heart already! A life of your own! Instead you insist on staying here as the Chilly Academic! What's the point!" The man yelled shoving Vexen harder into the wall. He gasped his blonde hair falling over one shoulder, as his other hand was pinned to the wall by the man's other hand.

"I…IT'S THE ONLY THING I HAVE! It's the only thing that makes me nostalgic! I walk through these halls, day after day, night after unending night! And nothing! Nothing makes me feel the same way as studying or reading a book! None of this matters to me! I need to know! Need to know who I am! And these books…these experiments…they will lead me to my answers!" The man smiled a wicked smile from underneath his hood.

"You idiot…I thought you'd be smarter, Vexen." Vexen gasped as a felt cold steel cut into his abdomen. He looked down and saw blood dripping from a dagger that was embedded into his stomach. He looked back up, emerald eyes lingering on the man. _He had to escape…this was…this was the man who killed Demyx and Zexion!_ He shoved the man away, and grabbed his shield. Gasping and gripping his stomach with his left hand. He turned to the door, a chill running down his spin.

"You need to know…because you don't know. You've learned…so much about the present and yet…you know nothing of the past. Going about your meaningless life as if you know every tangible truth. I. Vexen. Shall show you…the truth. The truth of just who you truly are." Vexen's eyes widened as he spun around shield slicing into empty air. He panted, the bottom of his shield hitting the ground with a soft thud as his left hand went to the wall, so as to support himself. With a shaking hand he turned the knob of the door, fumbling due to the blood on his black glove. The golden knob became a light red as he slammed the door open, unable to carry his shield it dissipated into a cloud of bluish black smoke.

"I-I have to get...to the lab..." he gasped his right hand holding the dagger so as not to move it too much, for fear of it cutting deeper than it already was.

"W-What did he mean…" he whispered as he shakily walked from number six's door to his own. He saw, from the bottom, mist rising and curling, like snakes dancing, as his subzero room's temperature collided with the normal temperature of the hallway. He knew everyone complained, about his room. It was the coldest place in the castle, and that….he could definitely deduce without even testing. He let out a shaky breath as he winced, with every step the pain becoming more and more real. He lunged for the door, his hair flying out behind him as he shoved the door open, gasping as he felt the dagger move a little, cutting up his stomach. He walked over to his desk, scrambling to find a potion. He knew he had one! He had just made one this morning, due to an accident during one Xigbar's poorly thought out training sessions, which was basically him taking target practice on anyone he could con into doing it. The results were a very angry Saix, and a disgruntled, and yet calm, Xaldin. He smirked at the thought, as he heard, after the unusual sleep he fell into, Xigbar slamming open his door and pointing, eyes wide, about what happened. He coughed, his lungs burning like they were on fire. He let out a gasp as he saw blood dripping through his hand, as he brought it away from his mouth. He coughed again, more harshly then before, doubling over his desk as he knocked various bottles and vials, filled with various liquids, to the floor.

"W-What's happening to me…" he panted running a hand through his dirty blood hair.

_V-Vex…Vexennnn._ His eyes widened at the cryptic voice, resounding in his ear. It sounded like dead leaves brushing against one another in a harsh autumn wind.

He was perplexed. He didn't know what to make of this situation. Nothing. Nothing made sense! Yes. He was the oldest in the organization, but never. In all his time as a nobody had he encountered a man like _him_. What did it mean? Who was he? He needed…no. He must know! For the good of the organization.

"VEXEN! Do you not wish to look at me!" His eyes widened as he spun around a woman with long flowing chocolate brown hair was on her knees, she grasped him around the waist. He coughed again, blood splashing to the floor, as he felt the dagger get pushed further into his stomach from the woman's grasp.

* * *

"I said NO!" A man with a blonde ponytail cried rushing out in front on the swords edge. He hissed in pain as he felt the tip slice clean through his shoulder, dislocating it. 

"E-EVEN!"

"Lord Even!" He panted, his hands going to the swords blade, he cried out in pain as he tore the blade from his shoulder. The fancily dressed, young man holding the sword stared dumbly at his lord, who was now on one knee, the snow around him red.

"L-Lord Even! Why! Why did you do!" various men cried out.

"Stay away from her! I said Stay AWAY!" he yelled. His throat felt like it was burning, along with his eyes. He turned to the frightened girl behind him, her brown hair in a tangled mess, from being dragged by her hair. Her eyes were red and swollen she clasped her trembling hands together as she gazed at his figure. He wasn't very muscular; rather, he had delicate features, for a male. He was beautiful. A picturesque noble, and yet…unreachable like the sun, or a golden crown a top a hill of jewels. Her eyes watered.

"W-Why…?"

* * *

Vexen cried out in pain as he felt warm liquid run down his shoulder. He gasped grabbing his shoulder, and then looking down at the woman. 

"W-Who are you! Get away from me!" He shoved the woman off his person, and she landed in a heap on the floor, her pale white skin glowing in Kingdom Hearts light. Her brown hair pooled at her feet she turned, looking at him.

"Why. Why have you forgotten me!" she yelled. Vexen backed up into his desk. He growled as the pain wracked his whole body. He felt the woman grip his coat.

"I-I will make you remember!" she hissed as he felt her nails dig into his arms. She was somehow level with him now, he didn't see or hear her move though and he flinched as her finger cut into his cheek.

* * *

"Why d-did you do it?" she whispered. Sniffing as her body shook underneath the blanket he had provided for her. He chuckled. His arm in a sling as he brought over two cups of steaming hot tea. 

"I…I love you. That's why." He smiled, his emerald eyes sparkling in the rooms light.

"Why…I-I'm nothing. A peasant! You have no right to…"

"Enough! I will ask for your hand in marriage and you shall accept!" he blurted out. The woman gasped.

"E-Even…you…" he felt his cheek flush as he looked into his cup, the hot liquid causing steam to rise from the porcelain cup.

"M-Mia…I…I love you. Like no other woman. You. You aren't like the rest!" he stated, looking up at her, his blonde bangs falling about his face. She coughed. His eyes narrowed as he leaned over, a hand going to her head.

"Come. You're hot with fever. You should rest." He said getting up. She coughed once more before getting up.

"I-I love you. Even." She replied before moving into him, her hands wrapping around his lithe waist, as her lips pressed against his.

He felt her lips against his. _So…cold._ His eyes snapped open and he pushed her away again.

* * *

"Wh-Who are you! How did you get here!" Vexen demanded, cursing under his breath at the stammering and shakiness of his voice. The woman's eyes dulled, sadness over taking her expression. 

"You…you really don't remember me!" she wailed. Vexen cringed as he tried to move his shoulder...it wouldn't budge. He gasped, holding his head as another wave of shot through his head.

* * *

"You look…magnificent tonight." He replied his emerald green eyes sparkling in the crystal chandeliers rainbow infused light. She blushed as she walked down the intricately carpeted stairs, her white-gloved hand resting on the golden railing. She was wearing a blue dress, it flowed out behind her like a river, as it was dotted with tiny diamonds. She wore, on her head, a blue sapphire jewel, which was clasped around her head with a golden chain. Her hands were adorned with various rings all of which sparkled and glittered in the moonlight. She was breath taking. And he. His breath…was taken. He bent down on one knee, and pulled from his back pocket a small box. 

"Oh. Even!" she gasped, her hands going to her face as she stopped in front of him. He smiled grabbing her delicate hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Will you…marry me? Mia?" He heard her gasp.

"Y-yes. I will. My love."

* * *

"Stop it…" he growled. It was a lie! It had to be a lie! None of this was real. 

"You can't fake the past, my love! YOU CAN'T!" The woman yelled into his ear. He was trembling. His breath coming out in short gasps as he lay against the table holding his head, his eyes burning as he blinked.

* * *

"It's…beautiful." She replied, holding up the locket, and matching music box. He smiled. 

"I'm glad you like it." He replied brushing some of her hair out of her face, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I want this to last for ever." She whispered closing her eyes as he stroked her hair softly.

"Why. My dear. We could always have a picture painted, if that was the case. But. There will be many days like this to come." He replied, smirking as she sat up a sarcastic smile on her face.

"A wise guy? Huh?" she replied as he laughed. He stood up his expression changing.

"My father…won't approve of this." He said sorrowfully, his eyes down casted.

"Even…we could…perhaps, persuaded him?"

"He's too caught up in the past! He'll never accept it! I-I have to tell him anyway…it wouldn't be right. But, you. Our." He let out a tired sigh, as he ran a hand through his long hair. She rested a hand on his shaking arm.

* * *

"It'll be alright. You'll see." He looked up and smiled, nodding as they both walked out of the sun drenched room. 

His head throbbed. He groaned in pain. Music? Yes. That tune. His head shot up to the music box on the tabletop. A silver box, with a blue heart in its center lay on the table, he turned to the woman who gazed at it longingly.

"Do you remember me now? My love." She whispered. She ran at him, ripping the dagger out of his stomach and slashing his arms and shoulder. He cried out and fell to the floor, blood seeping through his coat as he looked up at her, his eyes cold and unwavering.

"Answer me!" she cried, in a pitiful tone of voice. He cringed, as he shakily got to his feet, his stomach…it hurt. So much. He tried hard to fight the pain.

* * *

"M-MIA! Hold on! I-I'm coming!" he gasped. 

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU BRING…BRING THAT PEASANT INTO OUR HOUSEHOLD!" a fist collided with his face his head flew downward, his face covered by his blonde hair. His shoulders shook, as his hands clenched into fists.

"Why do you care! It's not your problem! I'm marrying her! NOT YOU!" Even yelled back, his eyes burning. His father grabbed him by the collar.

"Fool. What the hell do you think the others will say? Seeing you with a cheap whore like her!"

"That…is…IT!" He pushed away his eyes furious. "How dare you call her that! You don't even…you don't even know her! I will marry her, and you can't do anything about it!" He yelled storming out of the room, his cape flying out behind him.

"Get out! I rather disown you then have that…that peasant living here!" The door slammed shut. Leaving nothing but a deadly silence.

* * *

He felt the punch. As if it just happened. His right hand went to his cheek, he stared at his hand, as it shook. He looked down at the woman now wrapped around his waist, once more. 

"Don't leave me…don't leave me alone." His eyes widened. His whole body shaking.

* * *

"I-I'll return soon. My love. Please wait. Hold on for me." He whispered kissing her fevered forehead. He ran through the icy snow. His tattered cape flying out behind him. His legs told him to stop, with their burning and refusal to move faster. But no. He wouldn't not after all the work. All the time he put into this research. His scientist background finally came into place. He had finally found it. The cure. His lungs burned as he took short haggard breaths of ice-cold air. The snow began to fall thicker, faster, and harder blinding his vision. He trudged through the snow as a mansion came into view. He ran up to its frozen snow covered doors and banged. 

"Open up! It's me! Even!" he replied, clutching a vial, of some unknown liquid, tightly to his chest. The door creaked open and he scrambled through, pushing past the worried maid.

"L-Lord Even! Please! You must rest! Otherwise you will…you will get sick as well!" she yelled to his fleeting figure. He ran down the marble tiled floor, rushing past antique paintings and porcelain objects all of little, if no, materialistic value to him. He panted, the melted snow dripping off him, as he stood in front of a large oak door. He opened it slowly and then rushed inside. A huge hearth was at the far west side of the room, and in front of it, a bed. Big enough for two people to lie in, but only one person occupied it.

"M-Mia! Mia I did it! I found the cure!" he replied happily rushing over to her bedside. His green eyes widened as he felt the vial slip from his hands. Blood. So much…blood.

"N-NO! Who…who could've…MIA!" He grabbed her limp figure, his hands shaking as he saw shining blood coat them, her head rolling towards him weakly. A dagger was embedded into her stomach. Her eyes opened weakly, as she lifted her hand and stroked his bangs out of his eyes.

"Who did this to you! My…Love!" he gasped clenching her tightly to his chest his eyes burning.

"Y-Your father…I would guess." His eyes widened. "I-I'm so…so sorry."

"You never…found." She coughed, blood trickling down the corner of her mouth. "A cure." She replied…smiling weakly as he looked to the floor, the vial shattered into a million pieces, just like his world, like his…heart.

"Love…no other…besides me." She replied taking the dagger out of her stomach. He gasped.

"S-stop it! I-I can save you! There has to be a way!" he replied his eyes widening as he felt the cold steel tip bit into his flesh.

"A marking…of our…" she coughed the dagger falling from her hands as he went limp.

"Mia! Please, god, please stay with me! I-I need you! My world is nothing without you! Don't die on me…please." He sobbed into her neck her fragrance filling his nostrils, for one last time. She laughed a little before coughing again.

"Remember me…Even. I-I am the only one…who you can ever…love." She whispered looking at him, his disgruntled, broken figure. Tears glistening on his cheeks, reflecting the warm fireplaces glow.

* * *

He looked down at her, hand shaking has he brought them to his face. Warm tears streaming down his cold, unfeeling cheeks. How? How was he able to cry? The Chilly Academic…frozen inside. How was he... They shook his hands visibly shook as he looked down at the woman before him. She was weeping, crying into his blood drenched coat. 

"M-Mia…you…" he gasped as the face of his beloved melted before his very eyes. He backed away, gasping in horror as her beautiful clear face, melted into nothing but gray bone. Her lush brown eyes fell to the floor leaving nothing but empty eyes sockets.

"Even…how could you…could you FORGET ME!" She hollered her skinless hand gripping his coat as he tried desperately to get away. He finally summoned his shield and used his good arm to knock the corpse to the floor.

"I…I trusted you!" she wailed her voice hurting his ears as he saw her crawl back to him, pieces of skin still clinging to her lifeless body.

"This isn't happening! I can't feel! This has to be a dream!" he yelled as he felt the dagger point cut into his cheek. Her breath was like decaying meat. Rotten and putrid, her skin no longer soft to the touch, but callus and hard. Cold…everything was becoming so cold. He fell into a heap on the floor his back against his bed. He gulped in air as he saw her skeletal figure smirk, white teeth shining in the dim light. He gasped as he looked to his chest, the dagger…the one from the past! It was…the same.

"I-I'm so…sorry." He whispered, his eyes half open, as he reached out and stroked what little remainder of hair she had left.

"Hold me. Like you did…when we were…" no longer was she the skeleton, but the real Mia. The one he finally remembered. He blinked tears rolling down his cheeks as she began to dissipate.

"I'm sorry Even…"

"AH!" His eyes widened as he looked down to find a giant ice shard sticking out of his stomach. He coughed, blood gushing from his mouth. It hit the icicle and dripped off pattering to the floor in a rythmic beat. He sighed.

"Your eyes…they're so…cold now." He smirked remember what Zexion had said...all those years ago.

* * *

"Say...Braig." the older boy looked up, grumbling as he threw a dart and hit it just a little higher than the bullseye.  
"What is it Ienzo?" he grumbled looking at the boy who had his face in yet another puzzle.  
"Why...is Even so obsessed with science?" Braig paused. Silence filling the room. He looked at the floor.  
"I...I don't think I should be the one to tell you that, Ienzo." he heard the boy sigh.  
"You ever notice how dull hs eyes look, too? So strange..." someone cleared their throat, and the two looked up. Even stood in the door way, his eyes dull and uncaring. Braig jumped backwards.  
"E-Even! I didn't tell him anything! I swear!" the man held up a hand.  
"It's alright. Tell him if he wants to know...I'm...going out for a few days. Please try to keep Medy from hurting himself, the boy needs to calm, I swear." Ienzo blinked at Braig, who stared dumfounded as the older man left, shutting the door quietly behind him.  
"Shit..." he whispered turning back to a confused Ienzo.  
"What is it?" Braig laughed...his eyes tearing up a bit, as he ruffled Ienzo's hair.  
"Today would've...been...Her, and his...second anniversary." he whispered. Ienzo stared at the door.  
"I think...Even needs a student." Braig blinked. "What?"  
"You know. To keep his mind off things like that. I think I'll become his student! He'd like that wouldn't he, Braig?" Braig laughed, ruffling the boys hair.  
"Sure...I think he'd like it a lot...Ienzo. Now...let me tell you the story about a girl named Mia." Braig began, the other boy listening intently.

* * *

He watched her go, just as fast as she came. And he. Lay there. Unmoving as he felt his body go cold, colder than anything before…and his eyes finally closed, as a silence washed over him, blanketing him in a comforting, soothing, darkness. 

"You whose heart has been frozen in time. Be at peace once more, with your dearly beloved." A man said stepping out from the shadows. He opened up Vexen's hand, and took the locket, crushing in with his bare hand. He smirked noticing the heart shape scar cut into the Academic cheek, his teeth flashing in the light. He turned on his heel and stepped through the portal, the only sound resonating in the room was the sound of the silver music box, playing its melodious tune.

_A promise ending in **tragedy**…_

_Heartache felt through out the **ages**._

_Love can be…such a **fickle** thing. Yet. We need it to move on._

_Survive._

_A heart of **ice**. You who are the chilly, academic. Striving to obtain something you once had…and yet. Who would you **share** it with?_

_No one._

_Eyes cold and uncaring…seeing only the believable and **natural**._

_Your science is an **obsession**, striving to find the cure._

_Who is it for?_

_A love once so peacefully, ends in **darkness.**_

_A **symbol**…cut into flesh. A heart. So as not to forget._

_Let me live on in your **heart**, she spoke._

_But…where does one go, when there is no heart to be found?_

"_Your eyes…they're so **cold**…cold as ice…"_

_Thaw._

_End._


	4. Fate

Time. An irreversible thing. It was a thing neither man, nor scientist could change or alter. Perfect in it's design. Flawless is in it's job, and what it was meant to do, and yet…it was so obsolete to them. It rarely mattered what time of the day was, or, whether an hour, two or three had passed. That was their fate. People run from it. Yet they do not. They accept their time cherishing the moments and remnants of memories they have of once having hearts. Of times where they could feel, laugh, cry, without the façade, the porcelain mask they wore each and everyday, pretending to have something they did not. He mastered time, it was his element, surely he could stop it and turn the wheels backwards, back to when they all had hearts. He did not, though. He looked at the spinning card lazily, sighing as it twirled a few inches above his black gloved pointer finger. His dull blue eyes flashed.

"Luxord?!" he focused on the man seated before him and straightened.

"Honestly, can you at least _pretend_ to pay attention to me?!" Vexen growled turning back around and typing something onto the computer positioned on a desk behind him. Luxord sighed again and looked around the room.

"Why Vexen…you appear not to have any clocks in your room, why is that?" the blonde snorted in contempt.

"Don't be stupid. You know as well as I that time has no meaning to us. So why bother with keeping track of it, it'll only clutter the room." Vexen replied, Luxord looked around them room and rolled his eyes.

"I rather think it's cluttered already…" he mumbled his card disappearing as Vexen spun around and slammed his hands onto his desk. Luxord blinked, looking at the nobody perplexed.

"Just leave. You're no use to me anymore…I've examined your wounds and you're fine. Now get out!" Luxord shuffled to his feet, his hands interlocking into one another as he did a mock bow.

"As you wish." He disappeared through a portal, leaving the blonde alone.

* * *

"LUXORD!" His eyes shot open as he looked at a pair of not two, but three eyes. Two belonged to Xaldin, and the other one to Xigbar.

"You gunna deal or what?" Xigbar asked his face expressing an annoyed looking expression.

"I had the strangest daydream…" he replied shuffling the cards without even holding them, they whizzed by one another rapidly as he held both right and left hand parallel to one another.

"Did you now? Care to tell us or are you just going to brood over it?" Xaldin asked smirking a little and the cards where dealt. No one spoke.

"It was nothing, really. Just the first time I met Vexen is all."

"Ooooh you mean the time Xaldin stabbed ya! Hahaha I remember that! Superior was pissed!" Luxord chuckled. Xaldin's eyes narrowed.

* * *

"WHY! Why won't you go back?!" Vexen asked his shoulders hunching over as his head spun over towards the man's back. Number X…

"I don't want to."

"BUT! You can change everything!!! You can stop this from happening at all! Why won't you!"

"I told you...I don't want to. Going back and setting things right won't mean that they can't be set wrong again." He saw Vexen grip the balcony railing his teeth gritting together.

"Time is an irreplaceable thing, my dear Vexen. It is not to be meddled with."

"Don't give me that! I've had enough with your stupid chancing words and selfish manner! You can save us! Save all six of us!" Vexen's voice, it had a pleading sort of tone to it. Yes. But that's not quite possible, is it? But it sounds so real. His blue eyes from the corner seem so dark, but in truth they are merely tainted by the chances of fate, a fate in darkness.

"I'm sorry. I just can't do that." He pushed his seat back as he stood up, the light of Kingdom Hearts illuminating one side of his face, leaving the other in darkness.

"Now if you'll excuse…I have some rather important business to attend to."

"When…when will we get our hearts back?" he paused his eyes widening a little at Vexen's question. They narrowed as a die appeared in his hand, he threw it up into the air and watched it spin, a motion in time. A constant unending motion

"Only time will tell…Vexen." He smirked as he walked away; he heard it, pausing to listen. A loud crack and a yell erupted from the balcony.

* * *

He remembered they were standing by the railing; it was perfect, just like most of the castle, except there. Where a rather large dent was made. It would stay there forever, untouched, a memory set in time one of first memories he would have as a nobody, and he wanted it to last for as long as possible.

He let out a sigh, opening his eyes. Xaldin and Xigbar had left him! He smirked. He looked down at their hands, now facing upwards. He smiled, looking at his own. Royal Flush…go figure. He placed the cards down on the table, the clicking of clocks creating a harmonic symphony of something he could only remember…and yet, never transcend its borders. He looked out the window towards Kingdom Hearts; it's glow illuminating his face. His eyes widened a bit as his fingertips went to his chest, cold, still, unmoving like an ice statue.

* * *

"Why do you have so many clocks in your room?" He heard the dirty blonde scientist asked quizzically, he saw Vexen tap one of them, it chimed for five o clock, Vexen jumped back wards a little, holding his chest, instinctively, they had no hearts for fright to really matter.

"Oh I don't know." He shrugged, smiling a bit.

"It makes me feel at home, you know?" Vexen huffed.

"I'd go crazy with all the racket…" he mumbled under his breath as he sat down at the table. Luxord joined him a few moments later placing a stack of cards between them. Vexen's eyebrow rose, a slight twitching of his lips.

"Such superfluous things…"

"The noise comforts me." Luxord responded shuffling the deck absentmindedly, as he stared back at the scientist.

"Hmph! Potions make no noise."

"Only when mixed wrong…"

"I rarely ever do things wrong, gambler." Vexen said a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Your current state of existence doesn't really help make me believe that, Vexen." Vexen slammed his hand onto the table, Luxord just looked up passively.

"That…THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT! Sure I was oldest out of all six of us, but who knew…who knew Xem...Xehanort would open that door! I wasn't there to baby-sit! I was there to learn from Ansem the Wise." He knew he hit a nerve, always did. The six, when confronted with their past blunder, never responded…even Zexion was at a lose for words, truly amazing to see them turn a blind eye to it. The only one he never spoke to about it…was _him_.

"And then you let Xehanort's ambitions command you. And then you opened the door and in the process ruined twelve perfectly good lives along with thousands of others, surely you knew of the consequences." Luxord replied a snap of his fingers and a die fell from the air onto the table. Vexen sighed heavily sitting down again, his head down casted.

"If I knew that he was…going to do that, I'd never would have-"

"OH COME OFF IT VEXEN! You knew perfectly well the dangers of your experimentation; it's your goddamn inability to not be left in the dark that killed you! You…" he snapped his mouth shut, remembering Vexen's number and ranking.

"If you just invited me here to lecture me, I don't need it! I'm trying to figure out how to set it right again…"

"Heh. You're not doing a-"

"Let me ask you something." Luxord blinked at the dullness of number IV's tone. The man had his hands intertwined and resting under his chin, his dirty blonde hair falling like a river falling over a cliff, down his black clad shoulders. Luxord pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

"Hm?" the incessant ticking of the clocks seemed to go one for hours, though it was only minutes of silence between the two. Never ending rhythm.

"Do you think…the superior…do you think he really is capable of giving us what we want?" Vexen asked in a rather hushed tone. Luxord's blonde eyebrow rose.

"Are you questioning the one man you've known since before this happened, Vexen?"

"He's not the same!!! Something…something is different about him, very different. It's like he's a whole different being now, nothing like the Xehanort we once knew and worked with. Ask any of the others and they'll tell you." Luxord rubbed his chin, rolling the dice effortlessly on the top of his hand, he spun it on the tip of his index finger and watched it, his mind buzzing with the current conversation.

"Why are telling me all of this, Vexen?" the blonde sighed, looking down at his hands.

"I don't really know. I don't feel that you'll tell the others, you're a man of your word, am I correct?"

"On the contrary. I could be a man of many things, us gamblers…we know how to pull a decent façade, you know?" Vexen smirked.

"So it would seem." Luxord chuckled.

"Like a joker in a deck of cards…" Vexen stated looking at the red and black joker card. Luxord blinked.

"You know about cards, Vexen?"

"I've had my fair share in gambling with and with out the devil." Vexen responded placing the card face up on the table. Luxord reached for it, shuffling it back into the deck.

"Care to play a game, then?" he quirked an eyebrow at the scientist, whose dull green eyes gleamed for a fraction of a second.

"I must warn you…I've never lost before." Vexen said smirking.

"Yes to the others, but I, dear Vexen, am rather different."

"I should think so, only a fool would gamble with his own fate."

"My fate has been predetermined for me, I merely use the cards dealt to me."

"Spoken like a true tragic hero." Luxord smirked at the man's words.

A loud bang made him snap out of his reverie. He looked around, head shooting back and forth. He looked at his hands, thinking. He'd never daydreamed like this before…why was he remembering all this now? It puzzled him, and made him agitated that he didn't know. He jumped out of seat, pacing across the black and white checkered rug, beneath his feet. He threw and caught a dice in consecutive time periods, a pattern, and formula, a trick of the die. He rubbed his goatee absentmindedly, an action he'd grown accustomed to. Something didn't feel right, not right at all. Like a piece of the puzzle was missing, something just wasn't _there_. He paused turning an eye to the giant heart shaped moon. He remembered…his first time coming into this room.

* * *

"This shall be room, number ten." A man with a dour face and long blue hair replied stepping back as to let him pass. He looked at the bland room, sighing in modesty.

"Are they all…so bland?" he grumbled snapping his fingers and jumping back a little as a nobody appeared. Cards flew out of it's deformed, yet fitting, hands as it stood on heel and toe for his command. The man behind him grunted and the door slammed shut. Sighing, he took a seat at the bland white table, with it's bland white chair to match it.

"You think it's boring too, don't you?" He mumbled spinning a card on one finger; the nobody just cocked its head to the side, unable to grasp the meaning of his words. He hung his head in defeat. He looked out the window.

"Kingdom…Hearts…can you really give us…what we need?"

* * *

The ticking of his multitude of clocks filled his ears instantly. He looked back at the room, it seemed eerily quiet all the sudden, even though there were clocks all around him. They chimed, Eight O clock in the evening that neither existed nor ended. He stepped out into the darkened hallway.

"Hm…strange. It's so very quiet."

"_Indeed…so it shall be as with your death!"_ Luxord spun around a card flying from his fingers. It embedded itself into the wall like a knife in soft dough. His eyes flicked back and forth.

"Who' s there?! Show yourself." A chuckle from an unknown origin filled the hallway.

"_Fool. You gambled your life away working for this organization…you don't deserve to continue to exist. This meaningless life! What purpose have you for living if you're fate has been predetermined?!"_ Luxord backed up against the wall, four individual cards forming in between his fingers.

"I must say. My fate has been determined already, and yet…I have no idea what it is. Taking chances is what I do; it's what gambling is all about. I have no qualms if I lose." Luxord replied, he didn't realize it but the ground around him shifted, morphed, shape shifted into something only too familiar. He gasped stepping away from the wall as jagged spikes protruded from the once smooth surface.

"Then you shall die by doing what you do oh too well!" He spun around his hand shooting upward as a silver dagger flew at him, he backed away as he heard it thud, and saw the tip, pierce his giant card with the Organization symbol on it. The card disappeared and the dagger lay on the ground motionless. Luxord picked it up looking at it. Another cackle and he gasped as the glowing tip of a sword, or knife was now protruding through his arm. He spun around throwing two cards at a black figure. An organization member?! No! Why would anyone attack me? He panted tearing out the dagger; he heard the sickening splash of blood as it hit the floor, a pool already forming around him. The dagger slipped from his coated hands, clattering to the floor.

"So…you still want to play with me, oh dear Gambler of Fate? You gamble with the lives of others, not noticing how much you affect them so! So. Lets see if you can gamble your own life so carelessly." His eyes narrowed.

"An empty life! A predetermined fate! Tell me! Why is it that you didn't turn time back all those years ago?" his eyes widened a little as he saw more clearly now, a figure about his height, or just a bit shorter, pacing back and forth, a black form following behind him. The figure paused.

He gasped as he saw the hooded being now inches from his face, he stumbled a little falling into a chair.

"Lets see how well a gambler's poker face is when he has nothing worth hiding."

"What do you mean by that?!" Luxord yelled, the room reverted back and he fell onto the cold hard floor flinching a little from the pain. The figure was still there, standing outside his door. Waiting. He got up and followed, clutching his still bleeding arm, if it's a game this man wants, and then it's a game he'd get. He stepped into the darkened room, a room that was only recently filled with a good-natured game of munny and chores for the week. Only…now it seemed more ominous, he didn't like it, this feeling. This dread pooling up in the pit of his stomach, he felt…uncertain. The figure chuckled as the room once again changed.

_GUNS?!_ Luxord spun around as the wall filled with sliver guns the room sounded with the actions of cocking guns, their barrels filled with lead.

"What're you trying to pull?" he growled his hands clasping and unclasping in agitation. The man chuckled again looking over his shoulder; he fingered something in his hand.

"T-That…poker chip…where did you?"

"Why. I just want to play an interesting game this time, Luxord. Your life or mine, you determine your own fate…you could've become so much more, instead you didn't. You stayed here, this disgusting castle, where everyone fends for themselves, in there no unity in this organization?" the man said angrily. He didn't know what to say, that chip…something about it, made his head hurt, oh so bad. A hand went to his head.

"Fine…I'll play your game, you fool."

"Wonderful…shall we deal?" they both sat at opposite ends of the table, he gasped as black leather bands wrapped around his feet, waist and neck.

"It's all part of the game, Luxord. I thought you liked taking chances?" the man smirked from under his hood. Luxord growled. Why…why were his hands shaking.

"You're not very good at your poker face, I'm surprised…"

"Shut up…"

"What with having no emotions and all, you still express them like a well trained dog. Never missing a mark to show off your acting to the world, just to fill that empty void you once called your heart."

"I said shut up and deal!" he yelled back, his nerves getting to him. The atmosphere around the man was calm, cool, collected. Yet he, he felt nothing of the sort chaotic, hot, his eyes darted to the cards as the man dealt them, he turned them over, smirking a bit. He tried to put his hand under his chin, but no longer was he able to. He could only move a minimal amount of his arms he fiddled with the cards, looking up at the relaxed composure of the man in all black. He heard a the click of a gun trigger.

"AH!" He cried out in pain as he looked at his cards, now splattered with his blood. The man laughed, eyes gleaming from his hood.

"Oh so sorry! I forgot to warn you about this little game we're in. You see…if you get a bad hand, you get shot. More to lose that way, wouldn't you say?" He was panting, his chest was wet from the wound, and he winced looking down at his cards. How did he manage…to get a bad hand? Was he slipping?

"NO! I'm the gambler of fate! This…this is wrong!"

"TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT WHAT YOU REALLY ARE!" The man slammed his hands onto the table; the lone poker chip flipped effortlessly into the air, and clinked to the table once again.

"You're nothing but a fake! All of you! You don't deserve to live! Nothing matters to you but destruction and your own personal gain! Gambling with the lives of others, disgusting. Take a good look at yourself, Luxord." He looked, his image reflecting on the tables smooth clear surface. Nothing but…

* * *

"You're nothing but a shell now…number ten." The man with silver hair replied as he looked down at the bloodied, new nobody that had just come into the world that never was.

"B-But…how…how can this…"

"Stop dwindling on the past. There' s nothing left for you out there." The man made a sweeping gesture to the abysmal darkness surrounding them. He edged back a little as the black floor seemingly was being swallowed by the darkness.

"Then…what's the point?" he looked up with hollow eyes. His green ones met orange, burning fiery orange, nothing he'd ever seen before. This man, his presence….it was over powering, he didn't like it one bit.

"Come. There is much work to be done. Help me regain Kingdom Hearts, and in return…I shall give you that which you seek most…" His cold pallid hand went to his stiff, dead un-beating chest.

_A heart?_

* * *

He gasped snapping out of yet another past memory.

"Time flies past you and you don't even see it. From the moment you died and came here, time has done nothing but remind you…curse you, turn you into that which you disgust." He couldn't say anything, it's like his tongue nor mouth would move. He gripped the armrests of the chair, another shot. He winced, feeling the warm liquid roll down his torn arm. He held his cards with a shaking hand, blood seeping down into his gloves.

"H-How do you…"

"Know this? My dear Luxord…I know _everything_ about you. It's so blatantly written on your face. Ha! Just like an open book, exposed for the first time, clean crisp pages." He felt the man's cold finger trace along his cheek, cutting into his skin, he tried to move, but no to avail. It sent a shiver up his spin and he looked up at him, dull eyes flashing angrily.

"Yes! THAT'S IT! Where has it gone?! Why is it missing from all of you?!" the man slammed the golden poker chip onto the table, he turned his hooded face to Luxord and outstretching his arm, he indicated the blood drenched table and cards that lay upon it. But that chip…that was the one thing that caught his eye, never-ending spin of the wheel…roll of the dice. What did it mean?

"_You know what it means, Luxord. Open them. Open your eyes to the truth…"_ the man whispered in his ear, another shot, and he gasped, coughing up blood as he did so. He panted, looking dully at the table. The black coat man standing by his side.

* * *

A young man about 15 or so walked into a casino he flicked, with ease, a golden engraved poker chip into the air. A patch of hair was growing between his chin and lower lip, giving him the air of someone much older, yet…he was but a child in an adult world.

"Ruldo!" the boy looked back at another young man waving to him from a table. He smiled, a big grin plaster on his face as he sauntered over, tossing the chip up and down. His crystal blue eyes glimmering in the casino slot machine lights. He sat next to his friend, the other men at the table smirked.

"What're you kids trying to pull, huh?" Ruldo smirked shrugging as he slapped the chip onto the table.

"T-THAT'S A 1 MILLION DOLLAR CHIP!! Where'd you get it you little thief?!" a man asked grabbing the boy by the collar.

"He didn't steal it!"

"It's alright, Knox." Ruldo said looking at his black spiky haired friend, his black bangs falling over his troubled eyes.

"How about we play a little game, hm? Then we'll see who's good enough for this chip, eh?" The group of angry adults looked at one anther smirking.

"Fine. Lets give the kid a chance to make a fool of himself at least." Ruldo smirked, flicking the chip into the air and snatching it out of the air and slamming it on the table, his eyes beamed with a blue radiance only seen when in his environment.

"H-HOW?! How did we lose to a measly kid like you?!" They'd been playing a heated game for about an hour now, everyone in the casino was watching, surrounding the table in amazed gambling frenzy. Ruldo smirked.

"You can keep it though…I don't need the money to prove anything for me. Just this lone chip." He held up the golden poker chip, it glinted in the casino lights. A man growled, the same one from before.

"Little pretentious bastard! Didn't your parents teach you anything?!"

"Unfortunately my parents are long gone…unlike yours."

"YOU LITTLE!"

"RON! Stop! Hitting a child won't do anything!" the man's friends held him back, his brown eyes glaring at the boy, standing there, smirking.

"Ruldo…you sure that was a good idea?" Knox asked as they walked out of the casino. He shrugged.

"Oh well if it wasn't, they wanted a game and they got one. Fate determined the rest." The young boy next to him laughed, his blue eyes turned to him.

"You actually believe in that _fate_ stuff? You're just damned good, man." Ruldo barked a laugh next, ruffling his friend's hair as he did so.

"On the contrary! Any of them could be as good as me if they just put their heart into the game!" Knox paused.

"You think I could be as good as you?" Ruldo stopped turning back to his friend.

"Anything you set your heart to you can achieve, Knox." A flash of black a cry of pain, screaming, who was it that was screaming so much?

"NO!!!" Black. Desolate black abyss before him, the clear table was all that was left.

* * *

He looked at it dully, eyes never turning away, he felt numb…emptier then before, why? What where these memories supposed to do?

"You see it now…you lost…lost that one thing that made you truly great." He looked down at the cards in his hands his eyes widened.

"N-No…how…how could I?!" the man slammed his hands on the table again, pointing a gloved hand at Luxord.

"You lost everything Luxord! Everything that made you, you! There's nothing left for you in this world anymore…nothing but a meaningless existence…you bet too much and now, now you need to pay up. So. That makes it three for three, doesn't it?" Luxord heard another loud bang; he cried out, fire erupting on the left side of his face as a bullet grazed his cheek, blood splashed to the floor in a crimson tide. He panted, left eye closed, staring with his right, blazing blue.

"Wha…what are you?" He whispered his lung collapsing from his earlier wound. The man just smiled, teeth flashing in Kingdom Hearts light.

"I'm all that you lost…I am all that you suffer, I am…" he removed his hood. Luxord's eye widened.

"N-No! IT! YOU! It can't be!" he snatched at the straps around his body, the guns on the wall cocking. He struggled to get them off; the man snatched the chip off the table and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?!" He cried out. He just turned, hood now on once again.

"Do not use emotions you empty shell of a being. It disgusts me to see it."

How could he lose?! Why!!! This wasn't supposed to happen! It didn't make sense, and yet…he felt at ease, his chest no longer throbbed, no longer ached for that which was so close, and yet, so far away. The clocks ticked louder it seemed, his breath coming out in gasps and his body shuddering with the pain of the multiple wounds. He looked at the man in the coat a single strand of hair falling into his line of view.

"You're…just…like…" Luxord managed to say, the man whirled around, slamming his fist into he wall causing a crack and plaster to fall onto the carpeted floor.

"DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD!!" The man yelled.

"Your time is up, Gambler of Fate. You tried to out run time, but time out ran you, you…lose." Luxord's eyes widened, he turned to see the man opening the door, light from the hallway, spilling into the room. The light…where had he, oh yes that's right…when his body was being torn to shreds, he saw that light so faint and in the distance…and yet, he never flet its warmth, on his skin maybe but never, inside. He felt it now…_It's so…warm._ He closed his eyes for a second, realizing his true fate, then.

"NO! NOT YET! This isn't how!!! THE LIGHT! I finally felt it it's…so…" the man slammed the door shut blanketing him Luxord in total darkness. Luxord's pleas drifted through the door to an inattentive ear. He smiled.

_The light…it's left me…again._

The loudest of all the gunshots ricocheted off the castle walls, filling ever nook and every space of its structure. At first a frown, and then a shattered mask to cover that porcelain face. A silver stream of tears ran down the left, unexposed side of his face, he looked at his shaking hands.

"ARRRGH!!!" He slammed it into the wall, clutching it to his chest afterwards. He slid down the wall, head in his black-gloved hands.

The pencil in his hand snapped in half.

"Ugh…" his hands ran through his silver hair, eyes tearing in response to the agony in his chest and throbbing in his head. He slammed his hand onto his desk, the multitude of books jumping into the air. He growled in annoyance orange eyes flashing in anger.

"Why…WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?!" He yelled to an empty barren room. He knew these feelings weren't real, weren't supposed to exist for them, and yet…they did. Something, something wasn't right. He looked at the broken pencil the pain and throbbing now stilled. He stood there, unmoving, hands underneath his chin. He looked up as the sound of a bang erupted throughout the castle. His orange eyes narrowed in trepidation. Why was he so wary to move out of this room? He looked down, surprised at his shaking hands.

"Wh-Why...why are they?" he stared at them dully, and then stood up, opening a portal and stepping thorough with mild speed and agitation. Something was definitely amiss, in the castle that never was…

_What is **time**?_

_But a wake up call to all those too **weak** to see for themselves._

_Time stands still for no one and yet, we **created** such a thing._

_What is its purpose? Why…why does it all come **back**?_

_How much longer will we have to **wait**?_

_Time will only tell._

_You cannot control that which you cannot see. Fate. **Destiny**. It all comes together in the end._

_Why do we fear **death**? Why do we linger on the past? The deeds already done? There must be something more…something better then this. Life between **heaven** and hell._

_A constant push and pull of the hands of fate._

_Time is of the essence…time we do not…_

_Have._


	5. Flower

_BANG!_

He spun around as if on some darkened formulated queue. His pinkish brown hair floating loftily around him. He was tending to his garden…_again. _Due to some little bastards idea of a joke. He huffed, wiping sweat from his brow as he turned back to the rose bed that lay at his feet. He dusted his coat off, dirt and soil wafted through his nostrils. He loved this smell, flowers. It always calmed him for some reason, he never really understood why.

The garden was to say in the least magnificent. No one if the living world would believe that such a creature, such a being as a nobody could create, sculpt and comprise this garden of so many colors and combination at once. And yet he…he had done it, so well that in fact he almost never left. His garden, the one and only tangible thing in this despicable world he had left. He wondered…what he was like before this. Did he still love flowers? No matter where he was his memories consumed him, wrapping him in their dreamy misty embrace. He didn't know why, but…he wanted to know know more about himself then about these…these flower. And yet he never would. Maybe his flowers were like his memories, gentle perhaps? Or rotten and cold. Nothing could really be for certain, but he felt a throbbing deepening sadness come over him every time he thought about it. So eventually…he stopped thinking, never once letting his mind wander. And soon, soon he became enamored with these flowers of his, consuming most of his time and dedication. He didn't care what _they_ said, they all said it from the moment he was brought to this nonexistent hellhole, that he was different. His flowers had become a part of him, a shield to block out the pain of the unknown…

Solitary…that's all he ever was in this organization. No one really ever took him seriously, Marluxia, no one understood the beauty of his massive garden, that at one point was just a small tiny minuscule flower, handed to him by none other then the superior himself.

_"Here…Marluxia. I believe our information states that you're abilities with nature is, well, unique." The orange-eyed man whispered, his hands folded neatly up his chin. His piercing gaze never left Marluxia, and it made him physically shiver._

"_Wh-Why are you…"_

_"I believe this castle to be rather drab, besides…a few different colors might change the attitude of some of the younger members. Not that they can feel anyway." The man said dourly, waving him off, a lone rose lightly gripped in his hand._

He blinked.

"What the hell…why did I?" Something wasn't right, his eyes widened a little, as a snap of a twig, rustle of bushes, flurry of wind made him spin around.

"Alright Axel! Roxas! Demyx! Stop fooling around god damn it! You've messed up my garden once today, don't expect me to go easy on you, you little BASTARDS!" He yelled summoning his scythe, but his hand lay bare. He gasped, looking at his open palm.

_Why is my…hand…shaking?_

"_NO!!! I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HIM FROM ME!"_

He gasped, falling on one knee, clutching his chest as he did so. "Ugh! T-This pain…it hurts…" he bit his lip, gripping onto the ledge of the garden stairs, pulling himself up weakly.

"My, my, what a magnificent garden you have here, Marluxia. Did you do this all by yourself?" he spun around, feeling wind brush against the back of his next. He growled eyes darting to and fro to try and find the source of the icy, tuneless, bodiless voice.

"Who the hell is it?" he barked, panting still from the pain in his chest…no it was a pain in his heart. He winced getting up and running a hand through his glossy hair.

"I-It was just my imagination, perhaps…" he murmured eyeing either side of himself, a feeling of unease creeping about him.

The lone waterfall that stood at the far back left of his garden echoed monotonously in his ears; nothing seemed different except the overly oppressive darkness, which he now felt, winding down around him.

"Shit…" he narrowed his eyes spinning around to go up the stairs. He had to tell superior about this immediately. An intruder was definitely not something needed especially after that meeting before, was this the same person who had killed Demyx?

"Why bother in telling him, hm? Not like he'll listen to a lonely number XI. You've been around your flowers for too long, Marluxia, you should try _talking_ to others." He was paused, his breathing quickened he couldn't…couldn't believe it. That was, that was no imitation of his superior's voice. It sounded exactly like him!

"WHO ARE YOU?!" He spun around fist clenched and whizzing through the air. A cloaked figure caught it, back stepping a little. He was adorned with the standard coat, leather and metallic chains and all. The man's own hand was an inch from his face due to Marluxia's punch, but it never hit its mark. Marluxia gasped, trying to break the man's grip on him. The man shrugged, his pearly white teeth showing in a malicious grin. He let the boy go. He'd toy with him a bit before ending his pathetic life.

"My such hostility! And here I thought I'd meet the kinder side of you, dear Marluxia!" the man phased out, and he felt a hand placed upon his shoulder, icy breath like that of a corpse brushed along his neck. Marluxia slashed downward with his hand, jumping backwards a few feet. His shower of rose petals came forth without even thinking dousing the man in them, but the figure just slashed downward with his hand knocking the petals to the floor, where they lay lifeless and still. The rest of his petals floated about him, dousing the area with a beautiful scent. His eyes narrowed again and before long he felt the familiar metallic, smooth surface of his scythe.

"I didn't know we got any new cocky bastard members today. So, are you the new recruit Xemnas was murmuring about?" Even though Marluxia couldn't see them, he knew that the man's hidden eyes and eyebrow rose in mild humor and if not with some intrigue.

"Answer me! Who are you?!" his eyes had been going over the man, his coat, his gloves, they were all coated in blood. He saw a small pool of it beneath the man's feet, and then he realized that that bang…

"I. I AM THE GRIM REAPER!" The man dashed forward, disappearing without a sound. Marluxia who went to counter fumbled back into a defensive position.

_SHIT! This guy's fast!_ His eyes darted back and forth, trying to find the whereabouts of his attacker.

"TOO SLOW DEAR MARLUXIA!"

"Wha-?!" he looked up eyes wide as a cloaked figure fell from the sky, two small swords in his hands. Marluxia jumped backwards one sword colliding with scythe making his whole arm shake as he fell onto one knee and skidded across the floor, as the man's impact with the ground sent a shower of debris and dirt and dust over the room adjacent to the garden. He held up his scythe to deflect the debris, knowing fully well this was no normal fight he was about to get himself into.

"If you're not from the organization…THEN WHY DO YOU HAVE A COAT!" he yelled, eyes burning with fury at the man, who stood up from the smoke and dust, both swords gleaming malevolently. He turned face half exposed, half covered. He heard the boy gasp. They all gasped, it amused him, so very very much.

"N-No way…you! WHAT ARE YOU!"

"I AM THE SWORD OF RETRIBUTION! NOW! Number XI feel the pain of your past as it washes you away; consumes you till you are finally freed from this meaningless, arrogant existence! DIE!" The man dashed forward sword behind him gripped tightly in, if bare handed, would be white knuckles. Marluxia stood he spun his scythe in a circle before holding it out behind him, his torso turned, legs planted firmly on the ground, as he readied to strike down his enemy, his eyes narrowed and then…

"Sooo why are we going to Marluxia's garden?" Roxas asked annoyed. Axel had barged into his room while he was sleeping, if you could even call it sleep…more like awake just not fully there. Nobodies rarely needed sleep, but for some reason he, and possibly all the other members, felt strangely tired, for the castle had an unusual air of empty desolateness to it. Axel turned to his blonde companion, winking his black triangle tattooed eye.

"Because…we're bored, remember? Not like Marluxia is good for anything but annoying anyway." Roxas sighed and he looked at the empty rooms.

"Say, Axel. You ever wonder why there are so many rooms?" Roxas looked over to the red head, who shrugged hands behind his head, as they both continued to walk down the seeming less endless hallway.

"Maybe the superior is hiding something?" Axel spun around abruptly causing Roxas to collide with him.

"What the hell is up with you, Roxas? Since when did you ever care about the superior?!" Roxas shrugged, not really knowing how to answer that.

"I don't…know. Something's been bothering me. Where is everyone, Axel? And where's Demyx?"

"He wasn't in his room now that you mention it…"

"Wasn't there a meeting before?" Axel shrugged.

"Who cares? I hate the old man's meetings, blah blah blah, hearts this hearts that." Axel mumbled he eyed his friend with concern, as his usually vibrant blue of eyes, were merely a shadowing clouded azure.

"ACK!" He felt the knife being in shoved up between his rib cage and straight through to his lungs. He gasped falling somewhat on top of his attacker he heard the clang of his scythe as it fell from his limp hands to the cold white floor. Blood droplets hit the tiles starting the beginning of a crimson rain shower. The man whose shirt was cut in various places stepped away pushing Marluxia so that he fell backwards. He hit the floor with a thud. He panted, blood dripping from his mouth, his hair no longer glossy and lively. He looked up at the man, him...he looked so…much. He gasped at the man stomped on his chest, causing more blood to splash to the tiled floor; he panted sweat now on his brow.

_Am I…really going to die like this?_

He looked up at the man, eyes narrowing, yet he couldn't move. His chest ached; every breath caused him to want to cough as more and more blood filled his lungs by the minute, it got to a point where he coughed anyway. It was so silent…besides his labored breathing.

"Isn't this…nostalgic, Marluxia?" he pressed harder onto the boy's chest, causing another ripple of coughing fits to echo and rebound through the otherwise silent garden. The man smirked, looking down at the nobody beneath his booted foot. Marluxia had to get it. His scythe lay not even five feet away, if his could only…reach it.

_Come on…STUPID! M-Move damn it…move…_

His breathing sounded like it was getting worse, as more pressure was applied, he coughed feeling the warm sensation as blood spurted from his mouth, hitting to the floor due to his head being turned to the side. His pink scythe, he brushed it with black-gloved fingertips.

"Oh?"

"AH!" the man slammed his right foot onto Marluxia's arm, causing his hand to shake and a spasm to ripple through his body. He looked up blue eyes dulling as he panted more, trying to breath but was unsuccessful.

"W-why…why are you…" he coughed, wincing with the pain that shot through his body.

"Shut up, disgusting nobody. Isn't this ironic? The Graceful Assassin reduced to such…measures." The man spoke icily, the heel of his boot digging into Marluxia's chest, causing another fit of coughing. He panted looking up, his vision blurring as he tried to summon his scythe.

"Why…why are you doing this? You're one of us…aren't you?" The man bent down grabbing Marluxia by the collar.

"Eck!"

"LIKE YOU! You dare compare me with you…your stupid organization!" he tossed the pink haired nobody to the floor, causing various cracks to be heard. He didn't know if it was his bones, or the ground underneath him, he couldn't tell anything anymore. His mind was flooded with pain, a pain that felt so familiar.

_"NO! Leave him alone!!" a…woman? Who is she?_

"You said you wanted to see your memories, didn't you?" he brushed away Marluxa's dampened bangs, sweat on the boys brow. His breathing wasn't getting any better, and he looked longingly at his scythe, so close and yet so far from his grasp. He looked up at the man, he mouth agape, gasping for what little air his fluid filled lungs could hold. The man smiled his wicked smile, his shoulders shaking as he began to laugh.

"Haha…hahaha then I will SHOW YOU!" Marluxia's eyes widened a bright flash of light erupting his vision.

"_Why are you crying?_" _ Rain. It was always raining. He sniffed, the cold making his nose run. He huddled closer as the presence of a person and a shadow formed above him. He turned his long pink hair to about the middle of his back it glistened in the rain. Like a flower petal after a light rain shower._

"_You'll catch a cold if you stay out here…" He turned away, whimpering._

"_L-LEAVE ME ALONE! Who put you up to it, huh? Are you going to make fun of like the rest of them!"_

"_Silly! You and I are alike!" his eyes widened as he looked up at the blonde haired girl, who smiled sheepishly, holding out her hand. Her two yellow bangs hung damply over her face, plastered to her cheeks on either side._

_He turned, a light wind brushing up against him as flower petals from his magnificent garden fluttered about the two of them. She stood there, in that same white dress, with the pink frills, and he in normal everyday attire, jeans, shoes, and a tee shirt._

"_You came…you felt it too?" he looked up towards the sky, eyes burning as the sun doused them with its rays._

"_DEMON! I…I will not have you as a child!" He cried out in pain as his mother's hand wrapped around his hair, gripping a tuft of it firmly yanking him backwards._

"_M-Mother…please, please stop it!" He cried out, huddling into the corner. Something was wrong…this wasn't, this wasn't like her._

"_Oh? Your mother. Sorry she's not here right now…" the thing before him finally showed it's true form, his mothers skin melted dripping to the floor in a pool, seeping through the floor boards. And now standing before him was a yellowed, toothy, clawed figure. He gasped, panting as he backed up against the wall, fear paralyzing him._

_COME ON!!! MOVE! MOVE DAMN IT!_

_Tears stung his eyes as the creature lashed out._

"_AH!!" He went skidding across the floor, a deep bloody gash going across his chest. He panted, coughing up blood as he covered his mouth. He got up and ran, ran as fast as he could. Desperation, fear, hopelessness, everything was falling apart. What were they?! Where did they come from?! He ran past the burning town, passing her house along the way. His eyes widened as he saw a pale hand lying limply in the doorway, a toy ring on one finger._

"_Here! I-I made this for you…I know it's not much but…" he held out the tiny silver ring a fake blue sapphire in its center. She took it lightly in one hand, examining it as she did so. She spun around concealing her face from him. He blinked, gulping, hoping that she liked it._

"_I…I LOVE IT!" She cried wrapping her arms around him in a friendly embrace. They were the best of friends…in this town where nobody accepted them…children born of mistake, and they were all each other had._

_He panted coughing more and more, and each time more and more spilled. He fell onto both knees, gasping for air, his chest in excruciating pain. He hadn't realized it, but he was in his garden at the top of the hill overlooking the now burning town. Screeches and cries of people he neither knew nor cared for could be heard even from this distant. He sighed, hitting against the trunk of a broken tree, its bark singed and scorched from fire. Its leaves had turned to dust and soot. He sighed, his chest not really hurting anymore, just a dull pain. His breathing was haggard and he stared dully at the ground, which blurred and refocused constantly. He heard rustling, and looked up. Their pairs of solid yellow glowing eyes met his own bright blue ones, dulled now by the lack of blood and exhaustion._

"_So…this is how-h-how it en-ends…" he coughed putting a hand across his mouth out of sheer politeness, a politeness he tried to use to fit in, to be like the others, but he wasn't he never would be and now…he would die alone, forgotten in the seams of time. He looked at them, these things with pupil-less eyes and pure black bodies. Their movements erratic, twitching as if waiting for his death._

"_I'm…sorry, m-mother." He looked at his side, a lone scythe; he must've forgotten to put it away…he turned back to them, these demons. And with much effort and a loud sighed, he stood, leaning against the tree, puffing and gasping for air._

"_I…" another breath "won't…LOSE!" He dashed forward as the black cloud of heartless jumped and slithered forward, he gripped the scythe tightly in his blood-encrusted hands, facing a fate, which would only end in doom._

Marluxia gasped as his vision reverted back to normal, he was shaking, more then before, and he was…no. Were these tears?

"Now you see?" the man stood straight then he cocked his head to one side, so that the metallic charms on the coat hung lazily in midair. He smiled, grinning at the figure below his foot. Marluxia's breathing got even worse still, to a point where he coughed now ever time he tried.

W-Was that real? It felt so real…I never felt anything like it before. _Why? Why could he give us this? Why after all this time serving under him was he just now able to see his memories, memories he best left forgotten. It wasn't, wasn't right. That this man…had this power. He couldn't die like this, HE COULDN'T!_

"Oh, looks like your lungs are almost filled with blood! Here I'll help you with that!" His blue eyes widened as the man raised his booted foot.

"Now you understand…I'm freeing you from this pathetic life you've taken up…Marluxia." His foot came down, and Marluxia screamed out in pain, the walls, the floor, they all turned red, like his roses.

"Augh! S-Stop…st-stop it…" he gasped, hearing the crack which was indeed now his ribs.

"So sorry, Marluxia, darling. I can't very well do that…if you had only turned out differently, I could have…spared you. But no, you ended up following _him…_it disgusts me." His mouth contorted into a smile once more, and Marluxia felt relieved pressure as the man lifted his foot off his chest, his eyes widened as he realized that this guy…whatever the hell he was was going to crush him, until he could no longer breathe.

"ACK!" More blood…how much was he losing? He felt the booted foot snap bone and tear his insides. He looked over to his scythe, and with a desperate shaking hand he reached out, his hand shaking profusely. Another snap, more blood…his vision blurred and then refocused always on that glinting pink edge of his blade.

_WHY! WHY WON'T YOU REACH! DAMN IT DAMN IT! Please…anyone…_ His eyes watered at his failed attempts to reach his only source of survival, he felt them, tears, rolling down his blood stained cheeks, as he strained to reach it. The cracks sent waves of pain through his whole body.

"I think that's about…what, five ribs? Hm?" he looked at the nobody's hand, snarling he kicked the scythe away, it clanged against the wall, another unending silence followed, with gasping in between.

"Axel…something…something isn't right." Roxas muttered, they stood outside the doors to the garden, Axel was holding two drinks, and Roxas another. The red haired nobody looked at his friend in consternation.

"C'mon Roxas! There's nothing…" they both heard it, cries of pain, anger, and frustration. They rushed into the lightly air conditioned room, the smell of honey suckle, and roses filled both of their noses.

"You smell that…"

"Copper…" Roxas breathed.

"Blood." Axel paused, Roxas in tow.

"Axel…we should go get someone…" Roxas responded the silence surrounding them was deafening, and yet someone in here was being…tortured, perhaps they were dead.

"Do you think its Marluxia?" Roxas asked, quickening his pace to catch up with the red head. The lights in the garden flickered, the electricity going on then off. Both of them paused. They heard it, labored breathing. Axel gripped the cans so that they indented.

"Roxas…lets go." The blonde nodded as they both rushed through the exotic flora of the garden.

The man's laughter reverberated as he looked down at a broken and defeated pinkish haired man, blood trailing down the sides of his open mouth, barely gasping now, his chest barely rising up in broken rhythm.

"Well this has been fun, hasn't it?" the man asked his fingertips brushing lightly against Marluxia's cooling cheek; he licked the blood off his finger, his unseen eyes flashing with malice. He finally took his bloodied foot off Marluxia's chest, stepping through the pool of blood surrounding the nobody. He picked a vibrant rose, sniffing it.

"You were planning it, weren't you? To go against him? Oh. How much potential you had, and yet you still laid bound by his rule…to think, we could've been partners…you never were accepted here, were you?" Marluxia couldn't speak, all his energy was used up just trying to keep himself barely awake, and breathing. He stared back at the man, eyes narrowing in distaste and burning hatred.

"Heh. You hate me now, is that it?" No response. Even though he lay dying, he felt…at peace, for some reason the silence that had once been overly powerful was now actually comforting. Surely it had been comforting even back then, although it never lasted long, due to Roxas or Axel being jerks and messing up his garden, usually lighting something on fire. He wished…why? Why did he wish that they would come? Was he that afraid of dying?

_No…he didn't feel anything not anymore. What was the point, living this life? Was it really worth everything, the persecution? He was never accepted here…the looks he got when first brought to this damned castle. Hatred, distrust, and all for what? He didn't even know any of them. And then there was him. Xemnas. From the moment he'd met him he wanted nothing to do with organization, but to overthrow it, take matters into his own hands, finally be able to regain his memories like he was so cordial promised. He never remembered nothing ever spurred his mind, lied to that's what they were, they were all lied to, only so Xemnas could gain hearts for himself._

A loud crack erupted through the silence, as a bottle shattered against the white tiled floor of the patio leading down to the garden. The man turned away from Marluxia he had his sword poised right over his chest, Marluxia looked at the blade with dulled eyes, he couldn't do much now anyway he was in too much pain…those same blue eyes followed in the man's stead, widening at the two figures who were now before both he and his attacker.

"Ah-Axel R-Rox-as…r-run! GO!" He whispered his eyes pleading as he began to cough again unable to keep from it this time.

"M-Marluxia…what-what the hell did you do to him?!" Axel yelled his hand going out to his side as black tendrils began to wrap themselves around his arm, like thorns. The man smirked, dashing forward at a blinding speed.

"AUGH!" Axel felt ice-cold corpse like hands grab him by the collar and lift him off the ground, he saw his attackers eyes, not believing what he saw.

"What the hell is that?"

"Your…DEATH!" The man whispered as he tossed Axel down the stairs, as if he were a doll, into the garden below. He landed with a crash knocking pots and gardening tools over as he landed clumsily. Turning he lashed out with his left hand, knocking a disbelieving wide-eyed Roxas backwards. He crashed into the wall with a crack, and he slumped to the floor a lone keyblade in his hand unable to summon the other one due to the figures speed.

"Hmm. A keyblade? This is a rather interesting development." He turned to Marluxia who hadn't moved at all since Axel and Roxas appeared.

"You never told me about a keyblade wielder, Marluxia." He tried lifting his head, disgusted at the feel of his own blood sticking, hardening, into his hair.

"Tsk tsk." The figure waggled a finger in a mock gesture.

"Sh-Shut up…" he managed to gasp out, as he coughed again, blood flowing up from his lungs. The man laughed, sauntering back over to him, he kicked him in the side, and Marluxia gasped, unable to control his flinching and pained expression.

"Heh." He heard the clinking of chain links and spun around eyes narrowing beneath his hood. He growled a little. Seeing a flurry of black and blonde as the boy jumped off the balcony and into the garden.

"Now look at what you've done! Now I have to go find them…oh well, killing three birds with one stone is far more fun then I anticipated!" he laughed, turning an eye to Marluxia's crumpled figure.

"Don't go anywhere…I'll be back to kill you soon." He replied smirking as he sauntered casually down the steps into the garden.

"Who the hell is this guy…" Axel muttered rubbing his neck due to the chafing he took from his collar. He looked at a concerned Roxas, the boy's blue eyes staring at the floor. He was panting still, duel keyblades in his hands. They were both positioned behind a boulder one of the many decorations of Marluxia's lavish garden.

"A-Axel…we have to go help Marluxia. I know he's a jerk to us at times…all the time, and I know he's not the best of company to be around ever, and I know we don't have feelings, but he's our…he's one of us…we have to go help him! He's going to die otherwise!" Axel looked up at his friend, never once hearing this tone of voice in him. His green eyes stared into his blue ones, and he nodded slowly.

"There has to be a way to kill this guy…if only we could go alert the others…"

"There's no time for that, Marluxia's going to die if we don't get him some help." Roxas responded solemnly. Axel gripped his chakrams tightly in his hands, sweat forming inside his gloves.

"My how touching! Members trying to save beloved members!" both of them half jumped have fell away from the boulder. Axel growled his chakrams at the ready they spun in constant circuit at his side, and Roxas poised his keyblades in a defensive position.

"How long where you there?!" Axel yelled out, eyes burning with anger. The figure was perched atop the boulder like a bird; he cocked his head to one side a sadistic grin spreading across his face.

"Long enough. How long are you going to keep running?" he asked, Axel snarled and Roxas grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't let him get to you…"

"Oh I'll get to you eventually dear sweet Number XIII." The man responded.

"Why are you doing this?!" the man shrugged, both arms going up into the air.

"My, my, what a pity. I was going to kill you both alone and separately but…seeing as how badly things have gone, I guess I can kill you both together. You are best friends, no? Oh dying in death is ever so dramatic! I wish I could've shared the same..." the man hand placed one thin fingertip on his forehead in a dramatic pose, his head turned to the skylight of the garden.

"YOU GOD DAMN BACKSTABBING BASTARD!" Axel yelled out a pop erupted nearby as fire crackled to life, his green eyes were blaring with anger.

"You killed them then! You killed Demyx, didn't you?!" Roxas hissed back.

"Why are you trying help save your disgusting members? I thought nobodies didn't have feelings" he spat back an icy tone on the word feelings.

"Answer me!" Roxas yelled pointing with his Oblivion keyblade. The man chuckled his laughter filling the void and silent space between him Roxas and Axel.

"I don't very well feel like it. How bout this? We'll play a little game. And if you lose, you die, and if I lose I'll tell just exactly why I killed your precious members." The figure replied, eyes flashing beneath his hood. Axel narrowed his eyes. There was no way he and Roxas could take this guy on…but if he gave Roxas enough time…then he could possibly get Marluxia the hell out of here, if Marluxia was even alive anymore.

"Number XI should be alive, just barely. I did crush his lungs…rather a lot." The man said lifting up his bloodied booted foot, it left red stains on the gray boulder darkening it in one spot.

"Oh dear. Looks like I'll have to get a new pair of-" he side stepped the chakram as it almost grazed his pristine face. His smile was no longer present, and he stood tittering on the edge of the boulder. The chakram came whizzing back and Axel caught it with ease in his black-gloved hand, both of his hands dropped to his side, his chakrams went back to their constant spinning motion.

"Sorry…but we don't really give a damn." The figure sighed, placing a hand on his forehead, he shrugged again lifting his arms up in that same condescending gesture as before.

"Oh very well. If you wished to die so quickly…" he paused, head shooting up as he smiled sadistically at the two of them. Roxas stepped backwards gravel clinking underneath his feet.

"You needed only to ask…" he whispered. Two bright orbs formed in-between his palms, and from them two silver swords took form. His green eyes widened a bit, that movement…that gesture. It was, so much like. He flipped down from the rock landing gracefully as he did so, his hood never falling off. Both Axel and Roxas jumped to either side of their opponent, expressions of seriousness plastered onto their faces.

"Hah! Don't be so serious all the time…" the man stated cordial as he took one stride and in mid-step he phased out, a small pop following as he did so.

"Behind you!" a singsong voice exclaimed, Axel spun around green eyes wide with surprise. He saw a flash of silver and cried out in pain as the twin swords of his attacker slashed into the flesh of his back, leaving an "X" shape cut in his jacket.

"Augh! S-Shit!" he rolled away, panting a blood trail following him as he did so. Roxas stood in front of his injured friend, his keyblades glimmering in the light of the lone solitary heart shaped moon.

"Heh." The man smiled as he licked the blood off the blades, "this is going to be fun." He said rather enjoying himself it seemed. Roxas and Axel eyed one another, both of them feeling the same desperation and fear of what was about to come.


End file.
